Stone, Glass, Heart
by justlookup
Summary: It's nice to have someone who does that to you. Who cares for you. Don't get me wrong, I kind of, sort of like it. Maybe. But the problem is that Robin isn't the one I want caring for me. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

***Edited on 1/27/14***

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><p>The mind-numbing chatter of hundreds of teens fills my ears as I swirl my straw around my drink. I swing my legs looking out over the crowd in search of an ebony haired boy. Lunch, the only time I ever got to see him anymore, was almost over and he still hadn't shown up. I sigh, giving up my search, and lay back on the top of the table. I look up at the unusually bright Gotham sky and close my eyes, the bright rays of the afternoon sun bleeding through my lids.<p>

"These tables are filthy." I feel his breath against my ear before my mind even processes the words. I snap my eyes open to see Dick, clean-cut as always, standing before me with an impish smirk. "Just letting you know. For safety reasons," he continues, hopping up onto the table. I sit up completely as he pulls a pear from the depths of his black leather bag. He takes a large bite from the green fruit then reaches over for my cup, completely ignoring the straw, and drinking from the side. He hands me the cup and continues eating his fruit. I look down at the Styrofoam in my hands, grimacing at the teeth marks embedded in the side, before setting it beside me on the table.

"So…" I begin, noticing his eyes slide over to me, "why are you so late?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He gives me a toothless smirk, and I respond with an icy glare.

"You are such an a-"before I can finish, his hand is over my mouth, and his face is huddled next to mine.

"Now, Arty, that is not proper language for," and his eyes dance around the courtyard,"…such an environmen**t**." He pops the 't' at the end of the word. Staring daggers at him, I pull his hand away from my mouth.

"Seriously. I finished my entire lunch." He just looks at me blankly, turning the pear and biting into the opposite side from where he started. "Alone." I emphasize, trying to get some kind of point across. He chews slowly, eyebrows furrowing together. I turn my head forward and look back out at the crowd all crammed into the courtyard. I see Dick reach out for the cup beside me. When I glace back at him, his head is tilted back, long neck exposed, as he downs the rest of the cups contents. He sets the empty Styrofoam onto the bench of the table, beside my leg, and then throws the core of the pear into it.

He finally turns his attention back to me, cobalt eyes staring intently down at me. "So, there is this guy, who may or may not be subbing for a certain Calc teacher, and I may or may not have insulted his authority." His face is serious until a grin slowly cracks across it, inevitably causing me to laugh, a wide smile spreading across my face as well.

"You didn't!" I huff out between laughs. He shakes his head, laughing himself.

"Cross my heart. He chewed me out for over half an hour after class." He runs a hand over his gelled hair, a habit he has had for as long as I've known him. Once our laughter dies out, a somewhat uncomfortable silence falls over us. Dick starts kicking at the cup by our feet, watching the remains of his pear roll around inside as he swivels the cup on its round bottom.

I had met Dick on my first day at Gotham Academy over two years ago. He was a bubbly freshman, who had not only skipped an entire grade of school, but was placed in an advanced math two years ahead of the rest of his age group. I couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for him, having to be a thirteen-year-old boy surrounded by a mass of people all looking down at him. Probably as hard as it was to be the new girl halfway through the school year, clad in a used uniform, one size two big. The two of us could relate with each other from the start.

After our strange first meeting, in which he appeared out of nowhere and captured a picture of us, his arm thrown around my shoulder as though we were long time pals, I found that Dick Grayson, ward of _the_ Bruce Wayne, had actually taken a liking to _me_. He had begged me to sit by him during every period we shared, and had even taken a hold of my phone, sending himself a message with it so he could have my number and I would, in turn, have his.

He told me, sometime after we had inevitably befriended each other, why he had taken a picture with me that day. When I asked him before, he had never given a better explanation than that I seemed like an interesting person. But as he finally explained it, telling me that I had looked so lost, I couldn't believe how much he could see from just one look at complete stranger. That was quite the turning point for me.

After that, I began to notice everything that was Dick Grayson. He wasn't just this insanely smart kid with a killer sense of humor. He was so much more. He was insightful, deep and caring, not to mention, very easy on the eyes. What had started out as one of the best friendships I had ever had, turned into a mess of feelings I hardly understood. And he wasn't helping any.

Dick is one of those people who have no boundaries. He is a constant flirt who has zero problems with sharing food, drinks, or personal space. When we take long walks around the city, he isn't afraid to grab my hand and tug me along excitedly. And when we watch movies at my house, late at night, he sees no reason to get another blanket, and so we cuddle up beneath a twin sized comforter.

It took a while for me to admit to myself that I had feelings for him, and once I did, it was the only thing ever on my mind. I began to act completely out of character around him, which he noticed almost immediately, asking me what was wrong. I wrote it off as nothing, blushing furiously, and he just nodded, going along with it. I have never been the type of person to keep my thoughts to myself, least of all with Dick. And I certainly wasn't the kind of person who missed a huge opportunity because they were too scared to do anything about it. So I pulled him aside one day and told him how I felt, not caring that my rash decision could ruin our friendship.

I will never forget the look in his eyes. Dick was not an open book. If he didn't want you to know something, you would never know it. But when he looked down into my eyes, for the first time he didn't have a wall up. It was raw emotion, boiling beneath the surface of his icy-blue eyes, and it had caused my already rapidly beating heart to thunder out in my chest. He looked down, fiddling with his bag, and mumbled something before tumbling off down the hall.

He waited until the end of the day to tell me. We sat in the courtyard, textbooks open on the table in front of us. We had made some sort of unspoken agreement to not bring the incident up throughout the day, but sitting at the table, with students wandering all around us, he turned to me and whispered sorry. I gave him an empty smile, and he explained why we wouldn't work. I nodded along, as if I understood, and we managed to sort everything out, agreeing to pretend that it never happened.

Now, sitting in awkward silence, it is all too obvious that were are not as comfortable in each other's presence. Not like we used to be. I feel a pinch on my arm and look over to see Dick hopping off the table. I glance around the courtyard, noticing everyone shuffle away to class.

"Where'd you go?" He asks me with a smirk, tapping his finger against my temple.

"To Wonderland," I mumble out, sliding off the table and pulling my bag on. He snickers, and starts heading out of the courtyard. I follow on his heels, and we head down the hall to my next class.

"Have fun." He gives me a toothy grin, before walking down the hall to his own class. I watch his retreating form, before pulling open the door and ducking into the room.

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><p>I have never gotten over the rush of Zeta Tube travel. To have my molecules bend and warp into a blur of light, my surroundings changing shape as I am shot across the country in a matter of seconds, all thanks to the magic that is science. It's wild, and somewhat invigorating. I make a mental note to ask Wally to explain the mechanics, again.<p>

I wander into the mountains kitchen, noticing that the oven is off. M'gann must be busy. I open the fridge and pull out a bottle of water. The cave is unnaturally quiet. I uncap the bottle and take a small sip as I look over the island at the deserted living room. I twist the cap back on and grab an orange from the bowl on the counter. I walk slowly down the hall towards the media room, bottle tucked beneath my arm as I rip at the rind of the orange. Up ahead, light streams out of the room, and a sudden yell of excitement belts out, echoing down the empty hall. When I get to the doorway I glance in the room, shaking my head at the sight.

Wally sits only feet from the large screen in one of the many beanbag chairs scattered around the room. His tongue is poking out from the corner of his mouth, and his thumbs are a blur against the controller he has clutched in his hands. Robin is perched on the couch, staring intently at the screen, thumbs also moving rapidly against his own controller. Aqualad sits on the other end of the couch, legs crossed, paging through a tablet, seemingly unaware of the battle going on around him.

I continue to peel my orange, leaning against the doorway, staring blankly at the screen, a ghost of a smile spread across my lips at the familiarity felt from this. Suddenly, Wally's' obnoxious laughter is filling the room, and I snap my gaze down to see him throwing his arms up into the air.

"Ha, I bopped your block off!"

My eyes trail over to Robin, who is setting the remote down on the couch, a solemn expression set on his face. "It was a lucky shot. I'll give you that." He says calmly, giving Wally a cheeky smirk as he stretches his arms out behind his back. Wally starts shouting back in protest, turning around on the beanbag to face the couch.

"Artemis." Hearing my name snaps me out of my daze, and my eyes zip to Aqualad. He is looking up from his tablet at me with a soft smile. I return it, before looking back at Robin, now facing my direction with a blank face.

"Art! When'd you get here?" Wally shouts from his position on the floor as I walk into the room.

"Couple minutes ago." I reply as I walk over to the trash bin and discard the peel from the orange. I rip the juicy fruit in half, before bringing it to my mouth and ripping off a section. The bittersweet fluid coats my mouth as I bite into the slice.

"Just in time for round two," Robin says with a smirk, holding up the controller. I roll my eyes and walk over to the couch plopping down between him and Aqualad. The two start up another match, focus returned to the game, as Aqualad puts down his tablet and looks over to me.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine." I cringe when I hear how hollow it sounds. "Just you know, fine" I say softer, looking up into his eyes, smiling slightly. He nods his head, giving me a look of understanding, before he pulls up his tablet again and continues reading. I bite off another section of the orange and chew slowly. Wally and Robin's antics start up again, but it falls into muted background noise.

"Where's everyone else?" I ask Kaldur, breaking the calm silence that had settled between us.

"Mmm," he swipes at the pad in his hands, "Conner is out with people from school. I have not heard from M'gann today."

"She hasn't been in at all?" It was strange for the Martian to not check in at the Mountain. Aqualad shakes his head, looking up at me.

"I do not believe so." I only nod, taking a bite from the orange in my hand.

We continue to exchange idle conversation, nothing very deep – or very important, for that matter – but it's pleasant. Its times like this, relaxing with the team, where I actually manage to feel something other than hopeless. I'm in no way okay, not like I used to be, but I'm content. And it's better than feeling empty. There were times where, even being surrounded by everyone, I still felt utterly alone. I haven't felt that lost for some time now, which I'm so grateful for. I know I could never come out of such a dark place without this team.

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><p>After an hour – a very long hour – the two call a truce, and the video game is shut off. We all shuffle out of the room and head for the kitchen. Wally complains about the lack of food, asking where M'gann is. Aqualad replies, before pulling a frozen pizza out from the freezer and telling Wally to cook for himself. Robin, who had immediately made a beeline for the refrigerator, grabs a pudding cup and wanders to the living room, sitting on the couch. After deciding to not have any food, I follow him and sit down. I glance over to see him lick out a large glob of the chocolate pudding. I snicker at him, shaking my head. He looks over at me, pulling the cup away from his face.<p>

"What?" he asks. His tongue darts out and licks at the corner of his mouth.

"It's just funny that a kid with a utility belt _never_ uses utensils." He ponders this for a moment, twirling the cup around in his hands, and then shrugs.

"They'd just get in the way." He brings the cup back up to his lips and licks out another glob. I roll my eyes at him. He just smiles and glances around the room before locating the remote, which he reaches over and grabs from its place on the chair. He silently holds it out for me, his eyebrow arching out from his sunglasses. I slowly reach out to take the remote from him and our fingers brush as I pull it from his palm.

I turn the TV on and flip through the channels until I find the local news. A weather man stands in front of a group of temperatures, remarking that the sky is clear and that it is a perfect night for the beach. I quietly snort at how the night anchors converse with each other unprofessionally while on camera. Robin, who had been eerily silent for way too long, chuckles, causing me to look over at him. He is turned toward me, his empty pudding cup sitting on the arm of the sofa, forgotten. I quickly glance back to the TV, suddenly feeling nervous being alone around him.

I feel the couch shift, and know without looking that he has slid over, invading my space. I clench my jaw and tense my shoulders, but this reaction to his proximity doesn't seem to faze him and he slowly reaches his hand out to my leg. He trails his finger around my knee, making lazy circles up my thigh. My breath shudders from my slightly parted lips.

"R-Ro-" his name fumbles around in my mouth, but refuses to come out coherently. I feel the heat from his leg as it presses firmly against mine. His finger continues tracing patterns across my thigh.

This thing he does – and I'm really not sure what to call it – never fails to turn me into a bumbling idiot. It has become something of a routine with him, one that sprang up from nowhere. And it isn't flirting, not really. I know flirting, having been on the receiving end of it many times, namely Wally. When he does it, touches me, he is always serious. And he will never do it in front of others, only when we have a rare private moment. I glance over to the two guys in the kitchen, only feet away from us. I guess private _enough _ is okay for him.

And of course I can never tell him to stop. I had tried once, but the words died in my throat. Some part of me must like this, this thing that only I am privileged to. Robin never does this to M'gann, and he certainly never did it to Zatanna.

My face lights on fire when his other hands starts stroking my back, my shirt rumpling up and down with his hand. The reporter on the TV laughs about something, her sugary-sweet voice the only sound filling the silence between us. I blink rapidly, my eyes looking up at his face, mere inches from mine. His hand has stilled on my thigh, his palm pressed flat above my knee. I clench and unclench my fingers before reaching for his hand, wrapping my fingers firmly around it.

"Pizza's done!" Wally shouts out from the kitchen, breaking the moment between us. Robin pulls his hands away and stands up. I turn my head to the kitchen and catch Aqualad's silver gaze, a strange glint in his eyes. Robin wanders from the living room over to Wally, taking the pizza cutter from his hands. Aquald's eyes don't leave me as I slowly stand and announce that I'm heading to bed.

"You don't want any?" Robin asks, holding a fresh slice up, the cheese hanging in stringy tendrils. Next to him, Wally finishes his first slice and begins pulling a second from the pizza.

"Nah. Not hungry." I mumble, turning my head away from them as I feel my cheeks redden. I am hungry, but I don't think any food would stay down in my turning stomach. I wander down the hall leading to our rooms as the guys all say goodnight, Aqualad's look burned into my mind. What exactly had he seen happen?

I never saw this thing between me and Robin as anything more than innocent touching, but after receiving a look like that from an outside witness, maybe I had a clouded judgment on the whole interaction. It would explain why I've never told him to stop. Why I sometimes unconsciously crave a moment alone with Robin, in hopes that he may do it again. Because it's nice, having someone care for you. And I don't know if Robin _cares _about me in any special way – my feelings for him are as platonic as always – but maybe that's what this is all about. That he cares about me. And I kind of like it, because it's not often that I feel cared for. I just can't stop wishing that it was someone else.

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><p><strong>Okay so I know I haven't done anything with this story for a long time, but every time I tried to write a new chapter, I couldn't get over at how poorly written the first ones are. So I've been working on them and I am much happier with them. So hopefully I can start writing more for this story soon, once I update the rest of the chapters. Sorry about the wait, I hope I can make it up to you amazing readers!<strong>

**~Just Look Up**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh my golly jee! Thank you so much for reviewing and/or favoriting! It made me super happy to see such a response. You all had great comments, and all I can say is that I hope you enjoy this chapter too*crosses fingers***

**Oh, also I do not own Young Justice or any of it's characters yadda yadda. On with the story.**

***edited on 1/30/14***

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><p>The cerulean Gotham Sky was quickly fading into a mess of colors over our heads. Pinks swirling with oranges as the sun slowly set. I stare up at the beautiful scene in front of me, and I know he'll be gone at any second. He always is when the sun goes down. It reminds me of some kind of whacked up version of Cinderella.<p>

I sigh and rest my head against the tree we're sitting in front of. Dick looks up at me with a questioning glance. "Isn't this the part where you run off into the night?" he grins at my comment and raises his head off my lap as he sits up. He stretches, and then runs his fingers through his perfectly gelled hair. A few strands pop out, making it look elegantly disheveled.

"I thought I'd stay for the whole show this time," he replies. I smile, looking up at the sky. He sits by my side, leaning back against the tree, mimicking my position and looking up.

I feel his eyes fall on me, but can't pull mine away from the sight above us to meet his gaze. Suddenly, though, I feel him pull at the back of my head, and I snap my eyes away from the sunset and look back at him. His blue eyes shine, reflecting the colors of the sky above us, and I feel my hair fall around my shoulders like a golden mane. I narrow my eyes.

"What are you doing?" He just holds up the navy blue ribbon in response, a lazy grin spread across his face. I watch as it blows out in the breeze before snatching it back from him.

"You should wear your hair down more, it's nice." My cheeks heat up, and I look down at my hands, fumbling with the ribbon.

"I don't really like the color," I mumble out, tying the ribbon around my wrist. "It's too….bright." I look down at the hair hanging over my shoulder, seeing how much it looks like _his,_ and look up from it in disgust. Dick reaches out and twists a strand around his finger.

"Really?" He asks, sounding slightly surprised. "I think it's cool. Look-" and he holds the strand curled around his finger up to my face, "-it's white at the tips."

"That's because I haven't had a haircut in years." He strokes the hair with his thumb before uncoiling it from his finger. It flutters down against my chest. "It's just dead," I finish, glancing up at him. His long eyelashes brush his cheek as he looks down at my hair, before his eyes flutter open, and I find myself staring into his beautiful cobalt orbs.

"Lemme walk you home," he breaths out, not breaking his eyes away from mine. I nod slowly, pushing myself up. He grabs his coat off the ground and drapes it over his arm as we walk away from the tree, the sky slowly blackening around us.

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><p>It was going onto three years, and our small team of 'junior' crime fighters had grown strong. After everything that had happened to us, battles that we had fought long and hard to win, we were finally a united team. Nothing was kept secret, not anymore. And that was what kept us resilient. Things changed, with time, of course. Once the crisis on the Watchtower had been averted, Aqualad had declared that he was not the leader our team needed. Overlooking the fact that Robin was still young and impulsive, he turned the team over to him, with Batman's approval. None of us complained. We had seen what the kid was capable of. Over a year had passed before we were forcibly split up.<p>

We had made a few minor mistakes during a mission, leaving the mountain empty and vulnerable. It had been breached and top secret information had been leaked out across the world. The League had to intervene, and once the crisis had been dealt with, immediate action was taken. Batman took Robin to the Watchtower, and for hours we were all left in the dark. When Robin returned – alone – he walked out of the cave without speaking a word.

When he came back, a couple days later, he called us all to the meeting room. He had been stripped of his leadership, indefinitely. Members of the League had worked out a new system for the time being. We would be directed by Batman and split into three separate groups. Our partner was chosen to perfectly complement our abilities. One team would handle a mission on its own, except for the rare occasion where more of us were needed. This way, there would always be four of us left behind if the mission were to fail. It was either this, or disbanding the team entirely. So we agreed with little protest.

I had been matched with Superboy, and, much to my surprise, we actually worked together flawlessly. He is all brute strength, while I am a silent predator, and we clash in all the right ways.

I'm wandering aimlessly away from the school. I really have no desire to return home, but I have nowhere else to go. Dick has Mathletes practice after school, and I have the night off at the cave. I come to a city bus stop and slump down onto the bench. I pull my bag off and rummage through it, pulling out some change from the bottom.

The wind kicks up around me, and I shiver, wishing I had brought a jacket today. So far, spring had been quite chilly this year in Gotham. Unusually so. I rattle the change around in my palm, looking up and down the street in search of the bus. Someone sits down beside me on the bench in a heap of black. I sweep my gaze over to them, attempting to see the person from the side of my vision.

"Hey." I jump at the sudden deep voice, and turn fully to the person, meeting a pair of baby-blue eyes and wild black hair.

"Conner! God don't do that," I mutter out, grabbing at my chest. "What are you doing here?" I ask him, after I've recovered.

"Your communicator was shut off." He replies calmly with a shrug of his shoulders. I glance down at his chest, noting the red 'S' peeking out beneath his light pea-coat.

"What's going on?" I ask, tensing my shoulders. If we had a mission on our night off, it meant potential danger.

"Nothing's wrong, don't worry," he leans back against the bench nonchalantly. I let out a sigh, forcing my body to relax. I lean back against the bench as well, crossing my legs.

"If nothing's wrong, why were you trying to get a hold of me?" His eyes drift almost lazily over to me, and he watches me for moment, silently, before dropping his gaze to the leather watch strapped to his wrist. It was a birthday gift from the man in blue himself. He starts twisting it around his slender wrist before replying.

"We have to do some recon. Nothing too big," he glances up across the street as two chattering woman walk by, "silent, no contact."

"Where?" I watch them round the corner, one waving her arms while talking rapidly, the other laughing at the act.

"Shipping yard. Here in Gotham." I furrow my brow, looking back to the man next to me. If it was in Gotham, why wasn't Batman handling it? He had made it perfectly clear that even though I lived in the city, I had to patrol in Star City. Something about keeping up appearances. I suppose there weren't too many blondes by the name 'Artemis' here in Gotham.

"Why are we doing this, then?" He sits up straight, pulling at the collar of his coat.

"Like I said, it's nothing too major." He stands up, offering me his hand. I take it and he pulls me from the bench and we start heading down the street. "Bats can't be bothered with the little things, you know," he whispers into my ear with a smirk. I laugh, nudging him with my shoulder, hard. It doesn't even move him.

"When do we go?" I ask, humor now lacing my voice.

"Tonight."

"Hungry?" He looks down at me, quirking an eyebrow up. I just give him a toothy smile and we continue walking into the heart of the city.

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><p>I'm perched on a platform on one of the four large cranes scattered around the large shipping yard. There had been multiple noise complaints, as well as various reported sightings of strange lights coming from here over the past few months. The GCPD had found nothing out of place after searching, and had closed the case. The strange occurrences had not stopped, though, causing the League itself to take interest. But this was low on the list of their priorities, so it had been handed over to us.<p>

I look a few yards ahead and see Superboy's slumped form at the top of a stack of crates. Two hours in, and absolutely nothing had happened out here. I was getting bored myself, so I can't even imagine how bad it must be for the energetic clone. I glance around my perimeter once more, checking for any sign of movement, before folding up my binoculars.

I press the communicator in my ear, sending a signal out to Superboy. I watch from a distance as he turns his head back to my position, bringing his hand up to his head, before he responds.

"_Yeah?"_

"I'm not seeing anything. You?" I glance around behind me as the wind picks up, whipping my long ponytail around.

"_Nothing. If something is happening here, it isn't happening tonight."_ I nod my head in agreement, knowing that he can most likely see it with his superior vision.

"Let's head back to the mountain. We can give a report and call it a night," His silhouette rises as I finish speaking. I see him twist his back, most liking stretching, before I begin my decent down the crane. When I reach the ground, I feel a strong gust of wind just before feeling Superboy land in front of me. The ground shakes a bit, causing me to fumble slightly, but I quickly regain myself, and the two of us make our way to the abandoned telephone booth.

As we beam into the mountain, our names being read out loud, announcing our presence, a feeling of dread washes over me. Green Arrow stands in the middle of the hub with Red Tornado, talking in hushed tones. As we approach them, Tornado looks up at us before nodding to Green Arrow and flying off.

"Hey. How'd the mission go?" Arrow asks, looking me up and down before glancing over to Superboy, then swiftly back to me. I shrug my shoulders, brushing off his question with a question of my own.

"What are you doing here?" Superboy remains quiet, looking between the two of us.

"I was here for a meeting with the rest of the team." He crosses his arms, his brows coming together. "I stayed back to let you two know what was up." I don't like his posture; Green Arrow was never so professional around me. I was one of the few people he actually seemed to relax around. Any news he has to tell can't be good.

I nod my head slowly, mimicking his position. "So what's up?"

He stands still for a moment before dropping his gaze to floor. I notice his eyes dart to Superboy, briefly, and it dawns on me that his guarded behavior may not be directed at me, but to the clone. I glance over to the man on my right, seeing confusion in his blue eyes.

"Black Canary, uh…" my head snaps back to Green Arrow, who is now looking up at me, rubbing the back of his neck, "she is taking a leave of absence." And he finally locks eyes with Superboy.

I look back over to him, and see his jaw clench. His muscles ripple down his arms as his shoulders tense, and his icy eyes slowly narrow. "What." It's more of a demand than a question.

"Sh-she wanted to tell you herself, but you were called for a mission." Green Arrow says, slightly fumbling with the words. "I told her I'd stay back and let you know." He looks back at the ground after Conner's eyes light up with rage.

"So what, she just isn't going to be here anymore?" he shouts at the blonde man. "What about training?" his voice breaks," wh-what about-" and then his mouth snaps shut, turning his head to the side. I place my hand on his shoulder, but he yanks away from me as if he'd been burnt. His eyes lock on mine, a storm of emotion racing in their blue depths. He gives an almost snarl before stomping off towards the training room.

"Conner," I call to his retreating form, making to follow after him. Green Arrow pulls at my shoulder, holding me in place.

"Artemis, let him go." He says softly, his grip softening as I relax my body.

"What's going on?" I ask him, turning in his direction. He attempts to hold his face still, but a goofy grin breaks out.

"Dinah's pregnant." He's beaming now. I feel a slight pang of jealousy, but quickly push it away and smile back up at him.

"Congratulation's." My tone is dry, but he doesn't seem to notice and he pulls me into a hug. He rocks us around before letting me go, face turning serious again.

"She was so worried. I see why now." He looks towards the hall where Superboy had stomped off to, shaking his head. I can only nod my head in silence.

* * *

><p>I record a report for Batman alone, not even making an effort to find the angered clone, before calling it a night and heading back to Gotham. I travel by rooftop before jumping down into an alley a block or so away from my apartment. My street clothes were hidden beneath a dumpster, and I quickly grab them and pull them on over my costume. As I tug my mask off, I realize that someone is watching me. It's just a dark shadow on a window sill two stories up, but it is too obvious and I know I was meant to spot it. I straighten out my jacket and tuck the mask into a pocket, not breaking my eyes away from the shadow.<p>

I hear his chilling laugh, echoing around the alley, just before he glides away from the window and lands swiftly on the ground. "Hasn't anyone ever told you Gotham streets are dangerous at night?" He says in a low voice as he walks across the alley.

I scoff at him, crossing my arms. Robin was the last person I wanted to see tonight. It had been a long day, I wasn't in the best of moods, and he had a tendency to really crawl under my skin sometimes. "What are you doing?" He stops walking, his long frame towering over me.

"Watching you." He says it so calmly, as if it is a normal thing to tell someone. His silky hair shines in the moonlight, the ends curling out slightly around his neck and ears. It's so contrasting against his pale skin, which is almost translucent in the dark. I notice that he has a long-sleeved version of his suit on, hiding away the skin of his pale arms. His head tilts to the side as he stares down at me.

"Well don't." I huff out, looking away from him. He steps closer, and I quickly push past him, walking out of the alley. I march down the street, attempting to ignore the following footsteps, until he swoops in front of me, blocking my path.

"Where are you running off to?" He reaches a gloved hand out and strokes down my cheek. I pull away, not missing the look of disappointment that flashes across his face.

"Robin, it's late. I don't have time for this game right now." I try to explain, hoping he will get it and be on his way.

"I'm just trying to help, Artemis," he all but whispers out as he pulls his hand back to his side.

"Help with what?" I throw my arms up in exasperation. "If you haven't noticed, I'm fine."

"But you don't have to be _fine_ all the time Artemis," he says sharply, walking a step closer to me. I don't attempt to move away, and his hand trails up my arm slowly. I look toward the empty street, glad no stragglers were around to see us. His other hand reaches out and touches my neck lightly. An eruption of gooseflesh scatters down my body as I feel the rough texture of his glove slide up from my neck to my jaw, turning my head gently. I let my eyes trail up to Robins face, locking onto the domino mask covering his eyes. I had always thought of them as being green. Not the dark emerald of Wally's eyes, but an impossibly bright green that rivaled with his sparkling personality. Right now though, all I can imagine are black coals staring down at me from beneath his mask, and I tug away from him vehemently.

"Please," I mutter to him, my voice losing all its power, "Robin, just…" I trail off, shaking my head, before walking around him and down the sidewalk. He doesn't follow me this time, and a small part of me – a very small part – wishes he had. And it scares me more than anything I could come across in Gotham at night.

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><p><strong>So...whatcha think? Feel free to tell me your thoughts, wants, fears and dreams!<strong>

**~Just Look Up**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sweet Babies! It's so nice to see all the reviews and likes on this. Thank you gentle veiwers. Hope you like this one. Oh, and a special thanks to Dark Goddess Of Shadows, without your idea it would have been a REALLY long time for the next chapter, I had no idea where to go after the last one. Hope this is good!**

***Edited on 2/12/14* I changed the perspective for Robins chapters. It's pretty different, but I hope you guys enjoy it all the same.**

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><p>A layer of steam coats the large bathroom mirror hanging over the sink. He swipes a hand across it and glares at the reflection looking back. The pale blue eyes – normally shinning bright, but now reflect the darkness hanging in bags beneath them – cut into him like a razor. Robin never liked looking into mirrors. Not without his mask. Sure, he'd wake up every morning, brush his teeth and gel his messy hair down, all while looking in the mirror, completely mask less. But he was Richard in those moments. He had a different mindset, and those same blue eyes had a different feel to them. They weren't the hollow pools watching him now, studying him as if they belonged to a different body.<p>

The water that clings to his black hair slides down the side of his face and drops from his jaw, pooling in the deep pocket of his collarbone. He has a fresh cut across his lip. It won't scar, but it will be there in the morning. Dick will have to get in a fight at school tomorrow, sometime before lunch. He sighs, running a hand down his face before wandering into the adjoining bedroom, towel secure around his waist.

It never seemed like work, the things he did to ensure Artemis never made the connection between Dick and him. He didn't need to try hard. For as observant as she was, Artemis was completely blind to things she didn't want to see. He'd stumbled around a couple of times as Dick, creating an image of clumsiness that Robin did not have. And as Robin, he laid off on the silly jokes or smiles that he knew made Artemis' heart turn when he was Dick. He didn't change who he was – not much – and even if he did, it was worth it for her. And sometimes, for little things like a scratch across his lips, he'd have to put in a bit more effort. But it was never work.

As Robin pulls on a pair of Dick's pajamas, leaving the damp towel in a heap on the floor, he starts to feel like maybe this whole thing is just pointless work. He isn't gaining anything from it. He won't dare to get involved with her as the goofy heir to Wayne enterprises, and she doesn't give him a second glance while he's wearing a mask, unless he's stealing touches in private. He crawls into the unnecessarily large bed after shutting off the lights, knowing tomorrow isn't going to be easy. He can only go for so long without a decent night's sleep.

He thinks about Artemis – something he finds himself doing more and more often – as he lies in bed, willing sleep to come. Her golden hair that he's seen hanging down to her hips on only a handful of occasions. The lean muscles of her arms, the muscles she has been covering up with a leather jacket lately because the nights keep getting colder and colder. He thinks about running his hands up them, feeling the gooseflesh pucker out from her olive skin as her breath catches between her full lips. He thinks about her tongue, and the way she swipes it across her bottom lip whenever she thinks hard on something. It's nearly dawn when Robin finally succumbs to sleep.

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><p>He sleeps in the next morning, completely forgetting about the fight he needs to get into, and burrows his head back into his pillow. He figures he has four periods before lunch, and shenanigans are not hard for Dick to get into.<p>

He is driven to school by Lawrence, one of Bruce's trusted chauffeurs, because he has missed first period already and doesn't think he should risk being any later trying to catch a bus. He walks into his second hour, which has been going for five minutes now, holding a cup of coffee, and shuffles to his desk in the back of the room, keeping his head down. Thankfully, Dick doesn't have the greatest attendance, and he doesn't get more than a couple of glances.

In passing time between his third and fourth periods, he wanders over to Barbara, who is standing in front of her locker with a meathead from the basketball team who has recently decided he likes the redhead. Dick makes an insulting comment to the boy, flinching only slightly when he is hammered in the gut and shoved against the locker. Barbara shouts in the background as his ears ring. The jock is eventually pulled away from him and he is sent to class with nothing more than a slap on his hand from the disgruntled teacher.

At lunch, Artemis has already heard the story, and he revels in her soft touch as she strokes her fingers across the tender flesh of his cheek where it was split open from the impact with the metal locker. She quickly pulls away after a moment, a blush cascading across her face. He almost begs her to touch him again, but bites his tongue and grabs a fry from her plate. She glares at him, and he just chuckles, popping the greasy potato wedge into his mouth.

When he meanders slowly down the hall after the final bell has rung, Dick isn't surprised to see her standing by his locker, arms crossed. Her teal gaze is on him as he approaches her, and he finds himself glancing down at his penny loafers.

"You gonna bother explaining what that was all about?" Barbara's tone is cold, and he rubs his hand against the back of his neck before he sheepishly replies.

"Cut my lip last night. I just needed a reason why." He opens his locker, mindlessly stacking books from his bag onto the small shelf.

"So Bran has to suffer now because you were being careless?"

"Bran?" He says with a snort, latching his bag shut while laughing at the silly pet name. She suddenly slams the metal door in his face, and he turns his head towards her. Her eyes are narrowed, and he forgets that Barbara can be quite intimidating when she wants to be.

"Shut. Up." She says through clenched teeth, a faint blush on her cheeks. "He has detention now, so thanks. I hope you feel proud of yourself." She flips a lock of curly red hair over her shoulder, the tension slowly spiraling away from her body.

"Yeah. I am sorry Babs." He looks down at her with his shiny eyes, and she just rolls hers in return before they walk away from his locker and head toward the math department.

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><p>The small bruise on Dick's cheek has faded into a putrid yellow, the cut on his lip nothing more than a scab. He sits on Artemis's bed watching her as she tosses the garbage from their takeout into the small trash bin in the corner of her room.<p>

They had usually gone to her place whenever they got together after school. He hadn't been over for nearly a month, though. Artemis never told Dick about the accident, and she shrugged off any of his questions about the sudden absence of her mother, until he finally kept quiet about it. Now, they spent most of their days together going out and enjoying the city. And only on occasion would they settle back into their old routine where she would invite him up to her home. He would ignore the dark apartment and the layer of dust. He would pretend that he couldn't smell the mustiness that had slowly engulfed the place. And he saw the way she walked straight to her bedroom in a matter of seconds, without giving so much as a glance to the rest of the apartment, and he followed her without question.

Artemis pads back over to the bed and returns to her spot beside him. Dick has a textbook spread out on his lap, but he hasn't read anything from it. His mind is too clouded. He glances over at Artemis who seems to be in a daze, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she looks at him with a blankly. He stares back at her until she suddenly shakes her head and quickly looks away from him, her cheeks coloring.

"So, it'd be aggregate supply, right?" She sputters out. "For number four?" she clarifies as Dick's brow furrows in confusion. He suddenly remembers that this was supposed to be a study date.

"S-sorry," he looks down at the book in his lap before muttering a lame agreement without having actually analyzed the question. She was smart, so he figures she was probably right. He hears her heavy sigh before she slams her book shut and tosses it aside.

"How are you feeling?" She asks him, and he has to force his eyes up from his book to meet her navy gaze.

"Fine?" He isn't sure what she means. He'd never given any indication of feeling unwell.

"You've been kinda, I don't know, distant lately." Her eyes fall down to his yellowed cheek. He knows what she means, now.

Robin and Artemis hadn't seen each other for a while. Not since that night on the streets. With new team regulations, this was nothing out of the ordinary – he hadn't seen Superboy in almost a month – but it was really starting to mess with him. He'd been having trouble focusing on patrol. Aqualad had even commented on the lack of sleep that was evident on his face during a mission.

He has this thing in him, this almost primal urge where he feels the need to protect her. And it's silly, because Artemis is strong. She doesn't need a savior, least of all Robin. But when he isn't around her – and he isn't factoring Dick into this – he feels like she will get lost, and the thought of that happening terrifies him.

So, yeah, Dick had been withdrawn for the past week. He felt like he was intruding in something that didn't concern him, which he knows is odd, since it does, technically.

"Nah," and he plasters a grin on his face, "I'm fine, Art." He watches as her tense shoulders ease up, and she returns his smile. It's warm, and he basks in it as he beats down the pang of jealously he feels springing up from somewhere inside of him.

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><p>He gets a message on his communicator that Friday, inviting him over to the mountain for a much needed night off. When he arrives, wandering into the kitchen, he meets the friendly face of M'gann, who is pulling off an apron.<p>

"Robin, hi," she tosses the frilly apron over the chair before throwing her arms over his shoulder and squeezing him.

"Hey, Miss M." he returns the gesture before she pulls away and bounds back into the kitchen. He follows her, ducking his head as a pizza cutter wizzes by and starts slicing a large pizza on the counter. M'gann stands at the microwave, gazing at the rising bag of popcorn.

"So, movie night I'm assuming?" He says, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.

"Yup," she turns away from the microwave and looks at him, "Artemis just left to pick out the DVDs."

"Artemis is here?" He tries to hide the excitement in his voice, but the Martian raises a brow and he knows she noticed.

"Yup, I managed to get everyone to come for tonight." The microwave chimes, and she turns back to it, pulling out the bag of freshly popped popcorn. "It's been so long since we all actually did something together." She continues as she pours the bags contents into a large bowl. She cradles it in her arms as she spins around from the counter. "C'mon, let's get everything set up." The pizza cutter lands with a clank against the counter as the two walk from the kitchen.

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><p><strong>Getting in Robin's head was the hardest thing EVER! He's so quirky, and I couldn't capture it. I just hope I didn't completely fail. Tell me what you think. Should I hide under a rock, or continue?<strong>

**~Just Look Up**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the long delay, I've been in Chicago. Any who, here is a special thanks to you, gentle viewers:**

**I love you Roza~ Thank you! I hope you read and enjoy this chapter too:)**

**Dark Goddess Of Shadows~ You are super welcome! Keep writing amazing reviews and I'll write an entire story about you! Well, I won't, but know that I truly love your reviews :))**

**Shadethedemon~ Thanks! You've reviewed every chapeter and it's made my day! Hope you like this one.**

**Pachowable~ I love them too! I don't know why, but I do. Thanks for you wonderful comment.**

**Taren Hawk~ I'm so glad your enjoying this! Thank you for reviewing:)**

**candi711~ Nope, she doesn't. Yet:) Thanks for such well thought reviews, and I LOVE your idea about someone giving Arty the 'talk' and I shall try to pop it in somehow. Enjoy!**

**Thank you to anyone not mentiond, I've reread every comment like a bajillion times and I apreciate them. Story time.**

***Edited on 2/21/14***

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><p>The movie night is nice, and excruciatingly long. Wally and Robin had lost interest halfway through the second movie and scrambled off to their own devices. Kaldur fell asleep by the third movie and was shaken awake by Conner. He retreated to his room, and had remained silent for the rest of the night. When M'gann popped in the last of the movies, still filled with energetic glee, Robin returned, sitting dangerously close to me on the couch. Conner had bid goodnight to his girlfriend and wandered away, ignoring her protests. She didn't remain for the entire film.<p>

As the credits begin rolling up the screen, I finally stand up and stretch out my tired muscles before walking into the kitchen. Robin shuts off the television and follows after me, sitting down on a stool. I rifle through the snack cabinet, but nothing looks appetizing.

"Eating out of boredom is not good for the soul." I slide my eyes over in his direction. He flashes me a large grin, before he pushes against the island and spins around in a circle on the stool. I roll my eyes at his childish antics as I slam the cabinet door shut. The stool stops spinning, and I hear his footsteps on the tiled floor. "You know, if you aren't tired…" his body is close to mine now, and I spin around to face him, "we could always figure out…" his arms slowly lift up, and I gulp, "something else to do."

Suddenly he is pressed against me. His hand brushes my hip, before it rests on the edge of the counter behind me. A shiver races down my body. My breath escapes from my mouth in heavy puffs, and he has to know what he is doing to me. His other hand grips my arm tightly as he inches closer. He has a callous on his palm, and it scrapes along my heated flesh as he strokes up my arm, causing my toes to curl in.

"Artemis?" He whispers it into my ear and his warm breath brushes against my neck. And he is so close. My shaky hand reaches out and clutches his sweatshirt. His hand, moving intoxicatingly slow, crawls down my outstretched arm before he is cupping my hand within his. He pulls at it until I release the material, and then his fingers interlock with my own.

"Robin," My voice is hoarse, but I take pride in the coherency I manage to speak with. He brings our interlocked fingers up to his mouth, and gently brushes his lips across the back of my hand. My eyes flutter shut, and my grip on him grows tight, my nails sinking into the flesh of his hand. He lets out a breathy chuckle that sweeps across the skin of my hand, before pressing his forehead against mine.

"You're burning up." I don't dare open my eyes. My head shifts slightly, and his sharp nose presses into the side of mine. I start to lick my lips, but stop halfway, remembering the mouth that has to be only mere centimeters from my own. He releases my hand, and I let it fall, absentmindedly clutching onto his bony hip. His fingers skitter across my bare neck and behind my ear, our foreheads still pressed firmly together.

"Artemis." And like that the moment breaks, clarity washing over me. I pull away from Robin, snapping my head towards the clone in the doorway of the kitchen. His blue eyes travel between me, with cheeks lit on fire, and Robin, panting slightly with his gaze still locked onto the counter. "C'mon. Mission," he nods his head down the hall leading to the hub, before walking away.

I stand still for a moment, catching my breath. Robin faces the tiled floor, unnervingly quiet. I clear my throat, and he looks up at me. "I should…" and I vaguely point after Superboy. He only nods his head and I am shuffling out of the kitchen and down the hall without another word.

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><p>"<em>So. You and Robin, huh?"<em> I glance across the vast shipping yard to where the clone sits on a tall stack of crates. My eyes narrow at his bulky silhouette. We were out here scouting again because the League had been alerted of three new complaints made from neighboring businesses.

"Mmm, there is no me and Robin." I pick out a bit of dirt from beneath a finger nail, before continuing slowly. "He just… we-"

"_It's complicated?"_ He asks. I shake my head, not quite sure if he is looking over at me. I slump my back against the metal bars at the top of the crane, swinging my binoculars back and forth over the side.

"I'm not sure 'complicated' begins to cover it."

"_Artemis," _he sighs, before continuing, "_he isn't-" _ and then he abruptly falls silent, and all I can make out is his steady breathing.

"Superboy?" I lean forward, raising my binoculars up and looking down toward the clone. He has walked across the crate and is peering around the large crane I'm perched on.

"_Shhhh." _Before I can ask him what he hears, he is springing away from the stack of crates and landing on the staircase of the crane_._ The large piece of machinery rattles a bit from the impact, but he grasps the railing in his hand and it stills before he begins climbing up to the top. He brushes past me at the top of the ladder and hops up on the control booth, stopping momentarily to pull me up, before walking to the very edge and looking out across the yard.

"What is it?" I whisper to him, glancing around the vast shipping yard. He leans down to my eyelevel before grabbing my chin and turning my head to face a slight glow in the distance. As I look at it, I realize the light is coming closer. It stops, a few yards away from us, but I can make out the forms of three men. Two appear to be wearing engineer uniforms from the shipping yard, the other stands in a dark suit holding up a flash light.

One of the workers starts pulling off the locks on a crate door, while the other two talk in hushed whispers that I cannot make out. When he gets the door opened, the man in the suit shines the light inside the crate and out of our sight. They continue chattering to each other, presumably about the contents of the crate.

"Can you hear what they're saying?" I ask Superboy, glancing over to him. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. He doesn't look away from the men in front of us, but nods his head at my question. I look at him for a moment longer, before turning my attention back to the men just as one of the workers slams the metal door of the crate shut. His back is to the other men as he begins locking the various bolts on the door. The man in the suit holds the flashlight up as he works. A beam of light bounces off of the crate and illuminates the piece of metal that suddenly appears in the other workers hand. Before it even registers in my mind, an echoing_pop_ reverberates through the shipping yard, and the man locking the door slumps to the floor in a bloody hump.

I gasp loudly, and Superboy's strong arm wraps around me, pulling me into his chest. My eyes refuse to close, and I grasp at the fabric of his shirt. A maniacal laughter rings out from down below, and I look over Superboy's arm and see the man in the suit jumping around in what could only be described as glee. The flashlight clutched in his hand shines on his face, and I see that he has clown makeup smeared across it.

Superboy is breathing deeply. A giant, brute of a man appears from seemingly nowhere, wearing nothing more than a pair of cargo pants and gripping a wicked hammer in his meaty hand. The worker, the one still firmly holding the gun and splattered in blood, points to the carcass while talking to the large man. He walks up to the crate and leans the hammer against it before pulling up a limp leg and dragging the body off into the darkness. His face is also painted.

I feel bile rise up my throat, but I swallow it down before tugging out of Superboy's hold and jumping off of the control booth. The crane creaks slightly from my movements, but I ignore it and perch myself at the edge of the large machine. The ground below looks so far away, and I stare down at it, images of splattered brain against metal swimming around in my head. After what feels like hours, I hear the metal rattle behind me before Superboy pulls me up and leaps off of the crane.

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><p>"-there was never any mention of who they were working for. They'll be meeting again in a week at the piers." Superboy wraps up our report with Batman over the commlink as I stand behind him, silently. Batman's expression is unreadable, and I stare off to the side of the room, wishing I could crawl into bed and forget the last couple of hours. Hell, forget the last couple of months.<p>

When we arrived at the mountain, we were greeted by Red Tornado who had taken note of my distressed form and had immediately flown off, paging the dark knight as he went. Robin and M'gann had been sitting awake in the kitchen, awaiting our return over steaming cups of coffee. When red Tornado returned and announced the meeting taking place with Batman in the communications room, they had followed in our tracks and watched the entire encounter from the sidelines.

"Okay. This matter will be made urgent. I want the team–the entire team–on the field for the next trade. We'll go over the details in person, but in the meantime, get some sleep. All of you." With that he shuts off the call, and the picture flickers out. I stare at the black screen, only looking away momentarily when Conner squeezes my shoulder on his way out, M'gann following closely behind him.

When I hear the distinct sound of Tornado's metal legs clinking out of the room, I let myself go. I fall into a heap on the ground, covering my tired eyes with my grimy palms. My breath comes out in long shudders, and I fight to keep the tears rimming my eyes from slipping out. I hear heavy footfalls, and I look up from my hands to see Robin slowly approaching me. I had thought he left; he was so quiet. He crouches down in front of me, and I can't meet the eyes that I know are looking at me through his dark glasses.

"Artemis," he whispers softly, "look at me." He gently grabs my chin and turns my head up to him. "I know how hard it is to see something like that. Trust me. But you need to be strong," and he sounds so sure, almost like he's rehearsed this moment in front of a mirror, "for the team." He doesn't need to add _for me._ The unspoken words are there in the soft tone of his voice and the way his hand gently cups my cheek.

"I don't think I can." I murmur, locking my eyes on the bulge of his Adam's apple. It bobs against the thin skin of his neck as he speaks.

"Of course you can. You're one of the strongest people I know." I look up at his face and he gives me a warm smile, an almost foreign expression for him. A tear trickles out of the corner of my eye, and before he can comment, I throw my arms around his shoulder a bit too roughly, and he falls under my weight with his back pressed firmly to the floor. His hands settle on my hips, and I push up from the floor to look down at him. His face is serious, but a wolfish grin breaks across it and we both laugh. I roll off of him and he sits up.

"Sorry about that." I wipe at my eyes, and look at the boy to my right. He sits solemnly on the floor, scratching the back of his neck.

"Are you okay, Artemis?" He asks with a controlled voice. Any humor still etched on my face disappears.

"Robin I-"

"Don't." He cuts me off. "Don't say you're fine, Artemis. I can see you aren't."

"Of course I'm not fine!" My jaw clenches with irritation as a hot tear rolls down my face. "How can I be_fine_ when I have to go to come home to an empty house every day?" I grind out between my teeth. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to calm my shaking body. "There was so much blood." I finally croak out.

His arms are around me then, and I lean my back against his firm chest as he grips onto my arms, still encircling my stomach. He presses a hard kiss against the top of my head, and a tremor rakes through me. He rocks us back and forth slowly as the tears dry against my cheeks.

We sit there, on the floor of the communications room, for a long time, with Robin's long arms cradling me. When I yawn, he shifts a bit, nuzzling against my ear and running his fingers against my bare arm. I shiver from his feather-light touch.

"I've been thinking of replacing the red on my suit with blue." He whispers in my ear randomly, and my eyes flutter closed as I chuckle softly. "You need to get some sleep." His soft lip brushes against the shell of my ear, and I let out a small whimper.

"Yessir" I slur out as he rises from the ground, pulling me up with him. We amble slowly down the hall before stopping outside my room. I fumble with the door before he nudges me aside and opens it himself. "Thank you." I say it with more emotion than is needed for thanking such a simple gesture, and he simply pinches my elbow in response before gliding down the hall to his own room. I look down at my stomach, expecting to see butterflies brushing their wings against it. There isn't any.

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><p>"You seem distracted," Dick comments, taking a gulp from his glass of soda.<p>

"Hmm?" I'm staring past his shoulder at the passing traffic in the streets. His fingers wave in the line of my vision and I focus back onto him. The bright afternoon sun reflects in his blue eyes and they seem to glow. "Just thinking," I mumble out lamely. I set the spoon gripped between my fingers into the half-eaten bowl of soup in front of me.

"'Bout what?" He asks around a mouthful of crushed ice. I shrug my shoulders. The waitress walks to our table holding a pitcher of ice water and pours some into my half-empty cup. I mumble thanks to her, and she smiles in return as she repeats the action to the next table over.

"Nothing important." He doesn't look convinced, but he continues his rant about the exciting new gadget Bruce had gotten for him anyway, and I slump down in my seat, nodding along with his enthusiastic story as my mind drifts miles away. The waitress slips a checkbook by Dick's plate as she passes by. He is too emerged in his story to notice.

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><p>The sidewalk is cracked outside of the large, 20-story apartment building. The doorman, clad in a stiff red jacket holds the door for me with a sneer spread across his face. His welcome is short and cold.<p>

"Nice epaulettes." I mutter under my breath as I walk by. His puffy face turns red, and I chuckle quietly as I approach the golden elevator. Oliver never did like me coming here alone.

I press the button on the side of the machine, calling the elevator down to the lobby. A group of older women wearing outlandish furs and clunky jewelry jumble down from the large staircase behind me, and meander across the lobby and out the front door. The elevator arrives with a shrill_ding_. I saunter in and tap the _close door_ button repeatedly until the doors shut with the same irritatingsound. I pull out my elevator key – the one Oliver had given me after the accident – and I slip it into the corresponding slot and the elevator lurches up, taking me to the top floor of the building.

I inhale deeply as the elevator opens into the formal entryway to Oliver's penthouse. I walk in and tug my boots off, setting them by a useless chair sitting by the door.

"Anyone home?" I call out.

"Ollie?" A soft, but slightly raspy voice calls back. I stop in my tracks, shock spreading across my face as Black Canary pushes through the swinging kitchen door wearing a small pair of spandex shorts and a lose button down shirt. "Oh, Artemis. I wasn't expecting you." Her voice has returned to its normal tone, and she crosses her arms, standing up a little straighter. The shirt spreads tighter across her stomach, revealing the slight bump of her expanding stomach.

"Um sorry, I thought Oliver was going to be here," I pause trying to find my words, "I uh, I didn't really want to be alone right now." I feel my shoulders fall, and I curse my exhausted body for showing weakness.

"Well come on in." She gives me a warm smile and nods to the couch. Her curly hair is tied up into a tangled bun. It's frizzy, and I assume she hasn't showered today. I walk around the couch, standing in front of it, but I hesitate to sit down. "I was just making some lunch, you hungry?"

"No. I just ate." I mumble. Her eyes glance from me, to the couch, then back to me and she gives a slight quirk of her eyebrow. I quickly perch down on the edge of the couch, sitting much too stiff to look comfortable. She smiles again then nods her head, before backing up to the kitchen door.

"Alright," but before she pushes through the door, she adds as an almost afterthought, "Nice seeing you again, Artemis."

"Yeah you too…" I trail off as the door swings shut on my words. I slowly trail my eyes around the apartment with a grimace. The usually warm home I was used to felt strange. Large stacks of paper and folders were piled around the room, blankets and pillows were thrown about haphazardly, and a water ring stained the glass coffee table. I guess she was officially moving in.

I've never been fond of Black Canary. She is unbelievably kind to everyone, but it's always seems forced to me. Green Arrow isn't my dad–hell, he isn't even my uncle–but he cares about me as if he were, and I'm not sure what I would do if I didn't have him. Maybe it's just jealousy on my part. Maybe I'm just worried that with his new baby and his new serious relationship, he's going to forget about me somewhere along the way, and instead of being rational about things, I take it out on Dinah.

Seeing her living here, with him, just tops it off. Oliver had told me, sometime between trips to the hospital, that his home was always open to me. With Dinah's work scattered around the place–not to mention her surprising lack of cleanliness–that invitation doesn't sound as pleasing now.

I push myself up from the couch and start pacing around, careful to avoid the clutter of paper on the floor by the coffee table. The piano, that I'm positive Oliver bought purely for decoration, is stacked with various picture frames. Most of them now hold pictures of him and Dinah, but one catches my eye and I smile as I slowly reach out and pick it up. It's a simple frame, but the picture inside is of me and mom. It was taken at Christmas, if I remember correctly, only two months before the accident. Moisture collects in my eyes as I look at her bright, beautiful face.

"That picture came out nice, didn't it?" I jump, almost dropping the frame before I turn around. Oliver stands behind me, shrugging off his coat and looking at the picture in my hands. I set it back in its place before walking up to him slowly and wrapping my arms around his solid form. He returns the gesture, chuckling softly, and I feel it vibrate through his chest.

"I miss her." I mumble into his shoulder. He pats my back, before he starts swaying.

"I know." He says soothingly.

"Ollie." His head snaps over to the kitchen door and a huge grin spreads across his face. I look over and see Dinah holding a tray with small finger sandwiches piled on it. "How was work?" She asks quirking up a brow and smiling wide.

"Oh, you know. Great." He says as he squeezes me hard before letting me go and walking aver to his girlfriend. He picks up a sandwich and pops the entire thing his mouth. Dinah chuckles at him and swipes her thumb across his bottom lip before leaning up and kissing him. I turn away from the pair and find my gaze return to the picture. It's only been three months since I last saw my mother's eyes, but it may as well have been years.

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><p><strong>A little info on what's really going on with Artemis. Kudos to anyone who knows exactly where I got the one armed clown guy from.<strong>

**~Just Look Up**


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't own Young Justice, DC, or Marvel(Disney does apparently?).**

**Way to go Ace of All Trades and Wolfram003 for knowing who scary clown guy is. I can't spell his other name but they call him Mr. Hammer. And he is from Arkham City, an incredible video game! Virtual highfives to you two.**

**Taren Hawk~ In time all the little strings shall come together and form a rope...or somthing. Anyway hope you like this chapter.**

**Wolfram003~ Thank you so much! You got pretty much the point of the story. The creators of YJ have made new takes on old characters, and the character development of them is awesome, so I wanted to try it too. Its good to know im not failing.**

**candi711~ No talk yet... but i know whos gonna give it to her. if you want to know, just ask. Hope you enjoy this chapter:))**

**Dark Goddess Of Shadows~ Hee hee. Good catch on the nightwing thing. I was just trying to make a joke, but after writing it, I feel like the idea should be explored. I dont wanna spoil anything with Kaldur, but its juicy...**

**Ace of All Trades~Wow I have cleaver reviewers. Not only did you get the AC reference, but you got the character dynamics thing im going for. The whole team has them going on in the show and Art/Rob is the most interesting to me.**

***Edited on 3/5/15***

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><p>The cool harbor breeze hits the back of my neck, and I wrap my arms around my suddenly shaking body. My hair billows out behind me, occasionally flicking across my back as the wind changes direction. The sun is setting over the immense ocean. My eyes feel heavy, so I close them, slowly counting off the seconds in my head. The week had gone by too fast, and now we were expected down at Gotham's piers in an hour. Somewhere, over the sea, a gull sings out.<p>

"You are aware that the sunset is behind you, right?" It's Robin's unmistakable voice, and I turn my head to see his semi-silhouette standing in front of the sea, beams of salmon and orange shinning out behind him. He walks forward and plops down beside me, the sand shifting out beneath him. I look back to the side of the mountain that had held my gaze moments before. "I guess this is pretty cool to look at, but it can't get any better than a sunset."

He stretches out his long legs and burrows his bare toes into the sand. The grainy pebbles stick to his pale skin. I look up to his face and see that he is looking down at me, the setting sun behind us reflecting across his sunglasses. I wonder if his eyes are actually on me - if they ever are on me.

"I'm not in the mood for a sunset," I respond after a moment, looking down at my lap. I finger the loose shirt hanging over my frame, rubbing the silky fabric between my thumb and forefinger. Robins sand-coated hand crosses the distance between us and closes firmly around my own. I let go of the shirt, and his fingers slide into mine. My eyes flutter shut. The wind kicks up, spraying our backs with a light mist of ocean water. Robins forehead presses against my temple, and he inhales deeply. I don't open my eyes. His lips glide softly against the hollow of my cheek, and I tremble slightly before untangling our hands and wrapping my arms around myself. He pulls away with a sigh. My eyes return to the mountain side.

"We should get going."His tone is calm, but he doesn't look at me. Not when he slowly rises, brushing sand from his shorts. Not he when he extends his arm down to me and pulls me to my feet. And when we reach the entrance to the cave, he holds the door as I walk in, but keeps his gaze firmly on the sun, which has touched the waterline and continues to fall lower. When it finally sets, the sky a single shade of black, the trance we had fallen into breaks and he pulls the door shut before briskly walking down the hall, leaving me standing alone by the entrance. My arms weave around myself, almost of their own accord, and my fingertips brush against a rough smattering of sand stuck to my forearm. I swipe it off, and the grains fall softly to the floor.

* * *

><p>I find myself shuddering when the abandoned warehouse come into view. It looked like something straight out of a horror movie, and it wasn't hard to imagine why the city had deserted it and built a better industrial district across town. I look through the chain-linked fence at the dingy building, with broken windows and rotting walls while Superboy rips a hole through the fence with an echoing clang. Kid Flash climbs through the small gap first, followed by Robin. I walk up and squeeze through last. Superboy pulls the fence back into place, then jumps over it entirely, with Miss Martian flying next to him.<p>

We follow Robin silently to the back of the deserted building. He points to an air vent in between the second and third floors, before his voice rings out in my head, causing me to jump.

_Miss M, you know what to do._

I've forgotten how strange it feels, having the others in my head. Superboy and I use com. links, and it's been months since I last worked with M'gann. I find myself impressed with how far her powers have come in such a small amount of time. The last time I had been involved with a mental link, every thought that crossed my mind was exposed to everyone who was connected. Now though, the martian had created a field that allowed us to separate our private thoughts from the thoughts we shared with others, which was nice. Apparently - though I have yet to see this ability in action yet - she has even managed to set up different channels, meaning she can limit who hears what voice, or something to that effect.

_Got it._ She rises off the ground, turning invisible. After a second, the vent cover silently tears away from the wall and falls to the floor with a thud.

_Good, KF, _and Wally snaps his head over to Robin, giving him his full attention, _this vent should take you all the way to the docking bay on the other side. Don't leave position, either of you- _and he looks from Wally, over to the area where M'gann is floating above us- _unless you're signaled. If the connection with any of the three of us breaks, contact the league. Immediately._

Wally nods his head and runs up the side of the wall, latching onto the small hole and pulling himself through. The cover rises from the ground and shifts back into place over the vent. Robin turns and looks at us.

_Ready?_ We nod and follow after him as he rounds a corner and comes to a halt in front of a small basement window. Superboy kneels down and pulls the window open, breaking the lock off. I slip down through it, Robin right on my tail.

I land on my backside with a thump. Robin gracefully lands on his feet next to me. _Fall was a lot higher than I thought. You alright?_ He asks, standing over me, offering out a hand.

_Fine. _I grumble while he pulls me up. Superboy lands on the ground on his feet, cracking it. The force knocks me back over. I glare up at him. He gives me an apologetic smile as I pull myself up from the floor again.

_Hopefully no one felt that._ Robin thinks. He pulls out his holographic computer on his glove and starts typing rapidly. _Alright… looks like Miss M. and Kid are in place._

_So what's the plan? _I ask. Robin closes the screen after a second, then points to a grate over the door.

_We check if the coast is clear, then go out that door and wander around the halls until something suspicious pops up._ He thinks, rubbing his gloved hand over his chin.

_That simple? Come on where's the fun stealthy crap, have you gone soft on us?_ I tease, poking him in the arm.

_Yeah, he's spent too much time with Aqualad. _Superboy ads in, causing us to both erupt in laughter through our thoughts. Robin shakes his head and jumps up on a flimsy looking shelf that surprisingly doesn't collapse from the added weight and looks through the grate above the door. I can't imagine he can see too much, unless that mask of his offers some kind of night-vision; there isn't any light shining through the grates from the other side of the wall, and I can hardly see a thing in the room we're in now.

_Looks good, let's go!_ He hops away from the shelf and pulls the door open with ease, sprinting out into a pitch black hallway with us right on his heels. I tap the buckle on my belt and slip into stealth mode. We round a corner, and slow down our pace until were at a cautious walk, creeping against the grimy wall.

_So what exactly are we planning on running into? _I ask, looking at Robin. All I can really see of him is the whites of his mask.

He sighs in my head, before thinking. _Honestly, I have no idea. I mean, you guys did a great job, getting us this far, but there really isn't much to go on. The clowns you saw- and the fact that we're in Gotham- has me thinking the Joker, but- _and he takes a short pause - _I dunno, it just doesn't feel right._

_I have a bad feeling about this entire mess. Those guys, at the shipping yard...they were real messed up. We haven't dealt with murder before, do you think we're in over our heads here? _Superboy actually sounds concerned, and it makes my stomach clench with nervousness. He's always lacked team morale, but he's never doubted himself before. I mean, what on earth does he have to fear other than Superman's disappointment.

_Lets keep going. _Robin finally thinks, before continuing down the dark hallway. Just as my eyes begin adjusting to the darkness, Robins glove lights up and he pulls up his screen. _We got movement. Looks like its on our floor._

I glance over his shoulder at the map he's got pulled up, but I honestly can't make much of it out. I turn to my right at the clone, who is slightly illuminated by the glow from the screen. He's gaze is locked on down the hallway, at what is nothing but a void of black to me.

_Who the hell would be down here? _I finally ask, looking back at Robin.

_A guard dog. _He replies, and I can almost hear the smirk in his voice, but his face remains emotionless. _There's a room up ahead, leads to sewer and staircase access._

_And the staircase leads to…? _I ask.

_Right into the heart of the warehouse, from the looks of it. _Robin responds, closing his screen and finally looking down at me. Superboy hasn't spoken in awhile, and it comes as a surprise when he his voice echoes in my head again.

_We should move. Now. _His voice is intense and we quickly make our way to the door Robin had signaled out before.

_What is it? _I ask frantically.

_Not sure, but it's big. _The clone responds while quickening his pace. Robin reaches the door first, and after a couple tugs at the handle, nothing more than a few loud rattles happen.

_It's chained. _He says. Superboy pushes forward and tugs it open with a loud clang. The clone allows us to enter the dark access room first and closes the door behind us with urgency. He reaches the chain, as best as he can, but its been busted open from his force, and it hangs limply as nothing more than a minor obstacle for whatever is behind us.

_That's a lot of stairs. _I mumble, looking up at the staircase that seems to go on forever, the end hidden away in darkness. A gloved hand slips into mine and tugs me up the stairs. And at that moment, I hear it. A deep, throaty growl. We're at the top of the first set of stairs when the metal doors clang open and the chains rattle to the floor. Loud, heavy footsteps start up the staircase, right behind us. I squeeze my hand, and Robin runs faster, pulling me right along with him. We come to the door at the top and push through it. Superboy pins himself in front of the shut door, as me and Robin instinctively search for a blockade. I find a large crate, and with Robins help, we slide it to the door. Superboy quickly shift from his spot and pins the crate in front of the door, just as the guard dog behind us shoves against the door. It does nothing more than dent outward.

_Too close. _Robin thinks, breathing deeply. The thing on the other side of the door roars. _Let's hope that thing isn't causing any attention. Last thing we need now. _He starts to look around the area, and me and Superboy do the same. Large crates and shelves surround us on all sides, stacking nearly to the ceiling of the large room. I side-step a crate that has fallen over, and my boots sticks on something thick and slippery.

_What the hell. _I think, bending down to get a closer look. Superboy rushes over and kneels down next to me. I dislodge my boot from the goop with a squelch. Superboy pokes at the black puddle, rubbing the stuff between his fingers.

_It's…tar? _He thinks.

_Why is there a puddle of tar at an abandoned warehouse? _I ask, poking at some of the blackness on my boot. It's warm. Robin wanders over to us, and crouches down beside me, pulling up his screen. A beam glides over the tar on the ground before dissipating and his computer makes a small chirping sound.

_Yep, definitely tar. Fresh too. _Robin fiddles with his computer, his brow furrowed, before closing it. _We should keep searching._

Robin continues ahead through the maze of shelves while Superboy pulls off the strip of tar stuck to my boot with ease. _Thanks. _I offer him a smile, which he returns before rising and following after. I stand up straight, my knee popping before I jog after the two boys ahead.

_Guys, everything alright? I noticed a rise in your adrenaline levels. _Miss Martians voice is suddenly filling my head again. She can pick up on our hormones now? That's new.

_We're good. Had a little run-in with a hostile. Nothing too big. Is there any movement on your end? _Robin answers.

_Yeah _- and it's Wally talking now - _we've got sightings on four presumed hostiles. They're all armed._

_Anybody recognizable? _Superboy asks.

_Negative._

Robin is pacing now, and from past experience, I know his mind is running a mile a minute with thoughts. _This doesn't make any sense. Everything in the warehouse is layered in dust. Years of dust. The only evidence that anyone has even been in here in decades is that tar._

_So obviously everything has been going down over at the new shipping yards. Till now. _I add in. Robin nods his head in agreement.

_So why are they meeting here all of a sudden, and what did they bring through that would be leaking out piles of tar? _Robin thinks.

Rob stops his pacing suddenly and pulls up his screen, typing rapidly. _What are you doing? _I ask him, coming over to his side. Again, I can't make sense of all the numbers roaming across the screen. He doesn't answer, and instead wonders to a door up ahead, not even glancing up, yet still walking with complete grace. He shuts his glove off and we follow after him. The door slides up from the bottom, and once it's open we walk into an extension from the main storage.

_Did you know this even existed? Cause I sure didn't. _I mutter. Superboy's face grows pale, and I glance back over to boy wonder, who has stopped walking and looks around the room, mouth hung open in disbelief. _What. What's going on? _I ask the two of them.

Suddenly, the lights over head snap on, and I turn away from the two boys, and take in the sight before me. Every inch of the room is lined with rows of metallic humanoids. I gulp.

_Miss M? _Robin says calmly.

_Yeah? _the martian responds almost immediately.

_Consider this a signal. _As the words echo through our heads, a red glow emanates from the center of each and every chest of the metallic creatures.

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><p><strong>Sorry for the cliffhanger. I'm not a fan of this chapter, but it kinda leads to the climax of the entire story sooo... yeah. I'm going to try and make some sort of action scene in the next chapter, but no promises. Please just keep reading, it will get better (hopefully), and leave a review.<strong>

**~Just Look Up**


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own Young Justice or any of its characters. Enjoy.**

***Edited on 3/8/15: I combined chapters 6 and 7! Thought it fit better this way. Be warned, it's a long 'un.***

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><p>He isn't sure when his mindset shifted. Maybe it was the first time her wide, navy eyes landed on him. She is gorgeous, anybody can see that, but there was something so uniquely robust about her that had him locked in from the very first moment he heard her speak. He didn't truly realize his feelings till months later, but by that time, he had already been all too aware of the feelings his best friend felt for her.<p>

Now, as Robin falls back against the wall, blinding pain ripping through his body from the wound on his pelvis, he can't help but think of her. Artemis. So strong and lithe, like a tiger. Black spots start circling around his vision, and he knows it's over. If no one notices in time, it's all over. His back slumps down the wall slowly, and he thinks he must have some kind of guardian angel looking out for him. The moment the lights on those machines had switched on, it was absolute chaos. M'gann and Wally had come as soon as they could, but their efforts weren't doing much. He'd been locked in battle, one after the other, a never ending wave of metal. But now, as he slumps down onto the cold cement, he's left alone. Maybe the robots attacked by life force. Maybe he was dying. Sweat beads down his forehead and between his chapped lips, the salty liquid mixing with the metallic taste enveloped in his mouth.

"Robin!" His ears are ringing, but her raspy voice breaks through, and when he looks up, he sees the green goddess herself, charging through a field of metal bodies that are grasping after her with razor like claws. She bats one across the head with her compact bow when he blocks her path. The fine instrument shatters on impact, but the beast falls and her path is clear. When she's reached him, she falls to her knees, hard, and mutters, "Oh shit." She rubs her thumb along his bottom lip, wiping away the blood, before she glances down at his injury. And that's when he sees it. A thin, bright green fiberglass arrow, pierced into the upper part of his groin. He doesn't see the arrowhead, but he can feel it - feel the barbs - dig in deeper with any movement he makes. Artemis reaches down for her arrow, but he pulls her hand away.

"Don't," he coughs out, "I'll be fine, help the others." She turns and looks at the battle going on behind her. The team was greatly outnumbered. Their only advantage was the fact that a blow to the red orb on the robots' chest was enough to take them down permanently. Unfortunately, a lot of energy and time had already been used up by the time this weakness had been discovered. She turns back to Robin, looking down at the arrow - her arrow - stabbed into his flesh.

"I'm so sorry." She strokes down his cheek, and it's so delicate. So uncharacteristic. She pulls away after a moment and runs back into the fight, instantly kicking out a red light with one blow. She doesn't have a weapon anymore, but she can hold her own in a fist fight. Robin watches, the pain slowly transforming into a dull numbness. The black spots return, and slowly envelope his vision. He slumps over unconscious a moment later.

* * *

><p>"-obin. Robin." The red and yellow image before him blurs around before coming into focus. Robin groans, trying to sit up, but Kid Flash places a firm hand against his chest and pushes him back against the wall.<p>

"Dude, don't move. You've got an arrow in your crotch." Robin looks down, and sure enough, one of Artemis's arrows is lodged into the area of skin just above his groin. He takes a deep, quivering breath, which cause a fit of coughing. After a minute, his head stops spinning, and the eerie silence in the room grows thick.

His lips are dry, and when he runs his tongue across the bottom, flecks of skin peel off. The taste of blood coats his mouth. "What happened? Where is everyone?" Robin asks with a hoarse voice, looking around the large room. Aside from a few piles of used-to-be-robots, the storage room looked deserted.

"The metal guys fled. Miss M. is bringing the ship over. And Superboy is trying to contact any League members who can come _now_." Wally replies, running his fingers through his copper hair.

"How long was I out?" Wally's emerald eyes shift away, and he lowers his head.

"Less than 10 minutes, but things got bad quick." He sits down completely and leans against the corner of the two concrete walls, ducking his head down lower. He doesn't continue right away, just fiddles with the torn red glove on his left hand. "We got to get you to the cave, man." He finally says, looking back to Robin.

"What happened? Why do you need to call in the League?" Robin asks, a wave of nausea suddenly racking through him. Wally lets out a long sigh.

"Because, this thing is way over our heads." His expression is grave. A foreign look to Wally's joyful face.

Robin's gaze stays locked onto his until Wally's attention is taken by the soft, approaching footsteps. Robin slowly turns his head, not pulling it away from the wall to see Miss Martian approaching with a soft smile on her face.

"Artemis is waiting with the ship, if you're ready." She says, and Wally nods and rises to his feet swiftly. "How's he doing?" She inclines her head at Robin. Wally cranes his head back and glances briefly at the slumped over boy. His best friend. He moves closer to her, and they talk in rushed whispers. There's ringing in Robins ears, though, and it takes all his might to keep himself from vomiting. Another groan escapes through his clenched jaws. Suddenly, a soft pair of hands are on him, one squeezing in between his clenched fist and gripping his fingers tightly, the other grazing over his shoulder.

"Robin, we need to get you on the ship." Megan's sugary voice cuts through the ringing, and Robins eyes drift open, slowly.

"Fast." Wally chimes in.

_Wally, he shouldn't move on that leg. Think you can carry him? _The mind invasion is unwelcome. Robin is finding enough trouble getting his thoughts collected with all this ear splitting noise, now having this pair in his head too, he thinks he's going to faint again. Can feel himself slipping.

_I'll try. _Wally replies.

Robins eyes rove around the storage room. He wants to know what happened here, wants them to just shut up about his well being and tell him what's going on. Where the hell is Artemis? He's trying to bring up an image of her in his mind and he just can't. All he can see is what's laid out before him. He needs his thoughts back, but they won't come. What good is a robin without it's brain anyway?

Wally swoops down beside Robin and with M'gann's help, they manage to carry the boy out through the loading doors and up into the currently visible Bioship. The ramp was thrown down in expectancy and they slowly walk up it and into the console before laying him down into a reclined chair, careful to keep his leg from bending.

When they walk out of sight, a familiar figure stands over him. Artemis. He wants to smile. Reach out his shaky arm and grab onto her hip and pull her close to him. He bets her skin is soft, even in all that sweat and grime. He glances up to her face. She looks worn. Her eyes are sagging, and her bottom lip is split open, blood dried into the chapped crevices. Her suit is sliced open on her collar bone, and blood stains the emerald fabric surrounding. Her deep, navy eyes stare straight into his, until he finally feels reality slip away and they fall closed.

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><p><em>Lightning slices through the black sky, brightening the scenery for a split second before the echoing boom of thunder follows behind. Rain pours down, splattering against the colored canvas walls. The raven haired boy stands at the entryway, the one in the back. The one only for the performers, never the audience. No exceptions. The rules weren't strict, but that one was. <em>

_The boy always tried to smuggle in the sticky faced children he would befriend for the day through the back, but it never worked. He was always caught. Always punished. Not harshly. No. His parents made sure to keep him safe. But he wouldn't be allowed to perform on those occasions. He would take off his mask, and watch from the back, never leaving the spot in which he was caught._

_The announcer would introduce the family, but when his cue came, it was passed over. The audience never noticed. He did. His eyes would water, and he would turn away until the show began. Then he would watch. And it never failed to excite him. To watch them fly from the crowds perspective. It seemed to give him more of a thrill then actually doing the defying flips and spins._

_But tonight was different. Tonight, he wasn't watching them. The storm had started just after he was told he couldn't perform. His mother had hugged him. Given him a kiss and apologized. Told him to try to behave for next time, before walking through the inner curtain, to the center ring. And his cobalt eyes haven't looked away from the sky. He could hear the crowd gasping and cheering. But the storm. It was enchanting, and he couldn't look away._

_He stares at the sky. Watches the lightning. Hears the thunder. And in the one moment of calm, when even the rain seems to mute itself, he hears it. The sharp gasp of the crowd. But it's different. It's fast, then dead quiet. A child cries. Then two. Four. Finally his eyes pull away from the storm. The canvas walls close tight as he walks to the inner curtain. He peeks out. The sight kills him. He falls to his knees. Eyes unblinking._

_On nights like these, when he would meet the local children, he was always punished. But never harshly. No, his parents made sure of that. On the nights he was punished, it was always them who had kept him safe._

* * *

><p>"Robin."<p>

He opens his eyes, blinking away the fresh tears that have trickled out. Artemis looms over, but her face is a blur. She leans closer and rubs her thumb under his eye, removing some of the water that has leaked out the corner.

"You in there?" she asks in her soft, raspy voice. He nods his head in confirmation, but when he opens his mouth to speak, only a hoarse sounds comes out. Still, she smiles softly, running her hand through his sweat ridden hair. All too soon, she pulls away from him entirely. He can hear rummaging from somewhere behind him, and she returns to her previous spot holding a duffle bag, setting the heavy bag onto the floor before her. She zips the bag open and immediately pulls out a water bottle from the top and hands it to him after twisting open the cap. "It's not cold, but it's better than nothing." She tells him, before she continues digging through the bag.

Robin slowly brings the bottle to his lips and takes a small sip. The moment the liquid hits his dry throat, it flips a switch on his body and he finds himself chugging down the entire bottle in a matter of seconds. Artemis stands and saunters to the pilot chair, starting up the ship.

"All right. Tell me where I'm going." She says. Robin gives her a confused look. He's been unconscious for awhile, why on earth would he be given directions when he doesn't even know what the plan is."What way is the Batcave? I've never been." She elaborates.

"And you're not going." His voice is scratchy, like a prepubescent boy. She snaps her head back, a scowl spread across her face.

"Robin, we don't have time for the identity game. You might have a stabbed artery."

"Take me to the mountain," and she starts to protest, but he talks over her, "It's already been like 20 minutes Artemis and I'm still alive. We can make it." She clenches her jaw tightly and turns back to the console, directing the ship towards Happy Harbor.

They fly in silence. Robin can hear the anger in her breathing and the way she grinds her teeth every so often. She's fuming, and he hates to be the cause of it. If he dared to walk on his leg, he'd hop out of this seat and turn her chair around and pull her up by the hand. He'd grab her waist tightly and press his forehead to hers and just breathe and hold her, and she'd melt between his fingertips like butter. He'd whisper sweet nothings in her ear, and bask in the quickened heart rate his near proximity always caused her.

And then he's thinking about the mission. What he missed of the mission. He figured Artemis was going to fill him in on the details, but she's so angry, she hasn't opened her mouth since they pulled away from the ground. Now he's heading for the mountain and he requires medical aid so it'll most likely be another couple of hours before he even hears word of what's happened. At least he can keep a piece of mind that his team is still okay. He seems to have gotten the worst of the attack, and he hadn't even gotten injured from the robot army.

"We're heading into a storm. Hold on." Artemis's raspy voice calls back to him. It shocks him from his stupor, and he looks out the side window, where a jolt of lightning flares out in the distance.I He grips the armrest until his knuckles turn white.

"Artemis," he mumble, distress filling the pit in his stomach, "I don't think we should fly through that." She snorts and continues her course.

"We've flown through worse. Besides we don't have much of a choice, thanks to you" She looks back at him as she says the last part, glaring right at his mask. She doesn't think he trusts her. At least that is what Robin infers.

After all, that is the reason, he thinks. Trust. That's what it is always about. Bruce has lacked trust for most of his life, and he uses that as a shield to protect himself. He's taught Robin the same thing. But really, Robin trusts this girl with his life. Like Bruce, he's just scared, but he's scared for different reasons. If Artemis discovered the truth, discovered what Robin had been doing to her for the past couple of years, he doesn't know what she'd do, and he's terrified to find out. Robin can deduce a lot of things - he was trained by one of the best detectives in the world - but letting Artemis in would be a real mystery. The kind he couldn't solve. So it's better this way, he figures, being two different people for the same girl.

Robin doesn't respond, he figures it wouldn't make a difference anyway, and they continue flying into the heart of the storm.

* * *

><p>"It's weird," he says with a chuckle, causing Artemis to pause her actions. Her eyes shift over to Robin, slumped against a back wall of the ship - the ship currently lodged somewhere in the woods on the outskirts of Rhode Island in the middle of a thunderstorm. She doesn't reply, but indicates that he continue. "I've always felt like I need to protect you, but here we are," he gestures between the two of them. Artemis snorts, but doesn't look up from the dufflebag she is digging through until she finally pulls out the travel sized med-kit she was searching for.<p>

Not long after they had entered the storm, a bolt of lightning struck a wing and they crash landed. It was hell on Robin's leg, but with all the safety features that had been installed in the Bio-Ship, no one was hurt and the ship wasn't damaged either, she just needed some time to mend the damage done to the exterior. But they were grounded for the time being, and Robin's condition was getting worse, so Artemis had decided - against his many protests - to mend him up the best she could with what she had.

She comes to his side and kneels down. His skin is a sickly white, but he'd been a lot more coherent than he was since he first got injured. He was almost himself again, though he really couldn't tell which self he was being, exactly. Artemis has a weird look on her face, but she still doesn't speak to him, instead she thrusts a flashlight into his empty hand and gets to work on preparing the needle. He flips the little light on and aims it down onto the arrow shaft protruding from his leg. Artemis had already snapped off the fletching from the end, which had hurt more than the crash.

The arrow tip was in deep, and Robin could feel it with every slight movement of his leg. And with every little sting of pain was a reminder that his friend - his trusted ally - had done this to him. He didn't blame her, never would. The warehouse had been chaotic, and if she missed her mark on the robots, her arrows ricocheted off them like they were made of rubber and he was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Just the thought that this wasn't a trick arrow, one that shot out a chemical or a net, but one with an intent for killing, hit him hard. He brought his team to a place where they felt unsafe enough to resort to these kind of measures. He'd only seen Artemis use these kinds of arrows enough times to count on one hand.

Artemis grabs for his suit suddenly, making Robin flinch and drop the flashlight in his hand. It rolls down the slanted ship before bumping into a seat and coming to a stop. She sighs and pulls herself to her feet, retrieving the little flashlight and returning to her position. She goes to hand the light back to him, but stops and looks him straight in the eyes, through his sweat-stained mask.

"Don't drop it." and she finally places it into his waiting hand. He smirks at her harsh tone, happy just to hear her talking again.

"Missed that voice," he says, after she's cut open his suit around the arrow, revealing his bruised and swollen skin beneath. She's pouring a solution over the wound and it stings. Her gaze is steady on her work.

"So, you want me to push this through or pull it out?" her tone is cheeky.

"I'd prefer pulling. Not a fan of pushing."

"It'll hurt like hell," she replies but he shrugs his shoulders and she places a firm grip around the shaft and splays her other hand on his stomach to brace herself. "Ready?" He nods his head in confirmation, eyes shut tight and fists tightly clenched. She begins to slowly pull on the shaft, and Robin can feel the barbs catch on his muscle. She's going too slow and the tugging is killing him.

"Just pull it out. Quick!" He finally grits out between clenched teeth. She does with a squeal, while he screams out in agony. She drops the broken remains of the arrow onto the floor beside them and quickly presses her hands over the wound that starts gushing blood. She's got her hand pressed up against his cup, shifting it a little out of place, and he sees her face heating up with red.

"Rob, can you grab the gauze, please." She stutters out. He reaches into the compact medkit and grabs some of the cotton and with a quick maneuver, she pulls her hands away and he presses the pad against the wound while she picks up the needle.

Artemis regains herself, and brushes his hands out of the way and squats down close to the gaping hole in his pelvic area. Her hands aren't shaking and it calms him down. He supposes she has to have a steady arm, with that hobby of hers. She pushes the needle through his skin and he hardly feels it. He's either too numb down there now, or he's close to passing out again. Either way, her work goes by fast and before he knows it, she's squirting more fluid over the fresh stitches and wrapping him up.

"How many?" he asks her as she tapes his wrappings down.

"Uh, five. Five stitches," she meets his eyes, before hers fall lower down on his face, something she always does when looking at him. As if she were second guessing herself on where she should be looking when talking to someone who's eyes she couldn't see. She sighs and sits with her back against the wall next to him and stretches out her legs, her toes pointing forward, before she bends her knees up to her chest. Her boots are caked in mud, and her hair has dried into frizzy waves.

Robin acts on instinct and crosses the space between them and rubs off some of the dried mud from her boot. She watches, making no attempt to stop him. Feeling brave, he runs his hand up from her boot, up her calf, over her knee and stops at her thigh. He presses his palm flat, and can feel the warmth from her skin radiate through the fabric. He bets the skin is soft, just like her cheeks and arms, but he knows the muscle is lean. Her breath catches when his hand glides up higher, and he presses his thumb into her skin. She leans her head back, exposing her long neck. Robin leans in close and brushes his lips against the delicate skin once. Twice. She grabs his hand then, but she doesn't stop him.

He considers, for a moment, ending his teasing here, but it's been a long day and he just wants to unwind a bit. Robin slips out his tongue and glides it up her throat slowly. She grips his hand tighter and lets out a whimper. He moans in return and closes his lips, sucking gently at the side of her neck. Her eyes roll back. This is crossing into a new territory and Robin is almost unsure of himself. It's always been more than platonic touches, but they could be explained away and rationalized. This though - leaving a hickey on his teammates neck - is something else. He stops his actions, but doesn't pull away, instead rests his forehead against her shoulder. His breathing is harsh and his heart's beating a mile a minute. He can hear her's thumping just as aggressively in her own chest.

"Ro-Robin " she says in a breathy whisper. She interlocks their fingers. Robin takes a deep breath through his nose, taking in the scent of her; pine and a hint of something fruity.

"Thank you," he whispers as he brushes his lips along her shoulder and back up to her neck, "for patching me up." He looks into her glazed over eyes, which are focused somewhere over his shoulder. His hand moves up from her leg and cups her cheek, running his thumb down the smooth skin. Her eyes remain elsewhere, and Robin feels his spirits drop. She feels guilty. He can see it in the way she's biting her lip. She's thinking about Dick, he figures, dropping his hand.

He chuckles, and her gaze finally makes it's way back to him. "I'm sorry," and she pulls her hand out from his and slides away from him.

"For what?" he's still got a smirk etched on his face.

"I-I did this to you, got us into this whole mess," and she gestures up at the crashed ship. His smile fades away as she throws her head back against the wall, a position of defeat. "I've been trying so hard these last months, but it feels like everything is crashing down." and she's got tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Artemis…" he isn't sure what to say. Robin had seen the change in her, knew she had been hurting, but god she acted so strong and in control, he had no idea this was bubbling right below the surface.

"I couldn't protect my own mother, how am I supposed to protect anyone? I-I'm a-" and she chokes on a sob.

"Hey," and he goes to pull her back to him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, "that wasn't your fault. You know that."

"I skipped out on patrolling that night, if I hadn't I-"

"If you hadn't skipped, you'd be out patrolling. Not hovering over your mom." He runs his finger under her eye, swiping through the tears streaming out.

"Bu-" she starts.

"Art. If you keep blaming yourself for things out of your control, you're going to slip away." He runs his tongue across his bottom lip. "I've already lost a good friend because he did the same thing," he looks down at the ground, images of Roy running through his head, "I can't lose you."

She rests her head against his shoulder, and he runs his fingers through her hair. It's tangled. They could both use a good bath, get out of their blood and sweat stained clothes. He looks down at his leg, which has started throbbing, and sees that his bandage is slowly coloring red.

Robin sort of had it figured that Artemis was capable of doing everything, at least everything he was capable of. Stitches shouldn't be bleeding like this, but maybe he pulled one out. They were in an inconvenient spot, after all. He's trying to figure out if he'll even be able to walk out of here. He squeezes the girl in his arms, pulling her even closer to him.

"I should try the ship again." Artemis says, not making an attempt to pull away from him. Her voice is hoarse, but it looks like her tears have stopped. "We've been in a dead zone for over an hour, I'm dying to know how the team is."

"Good idea." He whispers against her ear. His warm breath raises gooseflesh on her arms. She finally untangles herself from him, careful to not upset his wound. She goes over to the center seat and starts up the console controls. They light up and the ship purrs to life.

"Atta girl," she mumbles under her breath, setting course for the mountain.

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><p><strong>Sorry its been so long gentle viewers. I hope this was worth the wait. I'm also sorry if you were hoping for a fight scene, but i just could not make a good one. Can you believe this show now! Robin is all big and Beast Boy is green. It is CRAZY. I will admit I was peeved that Artemis and Flash were still with each other. No offense to their shippers, but she needs to be with Cameron. That's all I'm saying. Any thoughts? Leave a review:)<strong>

**~Just Look Up**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey. Whoa. Im back**

***Edited on 5/4/15. See below for some other edited notes! Thanks for reading.***

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><p>My knees are shaking.<p>

My heart is a storm of emotions.

My stomach is in knots.

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><p>"<em>Hey," Dick squeezes my shoulder, halting my gait; we've reached my building. His irises have darkened since we left the restaurant. The sky is cloudy and grey. "Guess this is your stop, huh?" he runs his hand down from my shoulder to my wrist, leaving behind a trail of gooseflesh. He pulls away before our hands touch. <em>

"_I guess it is," I remark, glancing up at the building looming above us. The street is relatively empty; cars are still blurring by, but we're the only pedestrians out on the street. _

"_I had fun tonight, Art" Dick says with a jovial smile, "it was nice to see you let your hair down." He leans in then and presses a quick kiss to my temple. My cheeks burn red and I turn away to the door, hiding my face. I fumble around in my bag for my keys._

"_Y-yeah it was," I pull out my lanyard and turn back to him, my heart still racing from his proximity. His eyes are burning into me. _

"_Goodnight Artemis." His smile is bright, making it impossible for my own face not to mirror it. _

"_Night DIck," I turn back and unlock the door and tuck my keys away, then turn back and offer him one last half-smile before entering the building. I don't dare look back as I open the second door to the building._

_The staircase is on my left, the elevator on my right. The landlady's office is straight ahead, tucked in between the garbage room and a locked door that reads "equipment room". The mailboxes sit on the other side of the elevator. I dont have the key for ours with, but it's late anyway. Mom has surely wheeled herself down to fetch it. She was always overly eager to read the paper everyday, I doubt she'd wait around for me to return home._

_I run up the stairs to my floor of the building. We're on the three, and there's two flights per floor. I open the stairway door and my nose is assaulted with the thick odor of something burning. The smell grows stronger as I near our door and I know mom's passed out on the couch with dinner cooking away in the oven again. I can see the image perfectly in my head as I unlock the door and enter._

_The air is thick and heavy, layered with smoke that billows out from the frying pan atop the stove. I kick the door shut with a wet boot while shimmying out of my coat, smiling to myself. Silver lining, at least Dick didn't come up to see this train wreck. I toss my coat haphazardly over one of the three chairs circling the round table. _

_The smoke detector hadn't worked for a while. Mom had set it off one night, and after we cranked open all the windows in the apartment, successfully venting out all the plumes of smoke, it refused to stop its incessant beeping. So naturally, I bat it off the ceiling with a broom, shattering the thing to pieces . Now the holder sat on the ceiling empty. We had told the landlady the following day and she waved us off saying she'd get her boys on top of it. After a few weeks, we lost hope in ever seeing a working smoke detector again. _

_I walk over to the stove and glance into the pan, holding back a cough. Very burnt. Nice mom. I turn the burner off, and grip the handle of the pan before pulling away with a hiss. The handle was hot. _How long was that burning for? _I glance over at the couch, expecting to see a rumpled mom getting her bearings from her unexpected nap. She'd smell the smoke and mutter that she must have burnt dinner again._

_But there is nothing. The couch is bare. My brow furrows. I walk away from the kitchen and make my way down the short hallway leading to mom's little room and the second bathroom. Me and Jade had been given the master bedroom when we first moved in. It was a blessing to have some space between the two of us. I actually had my own bed. My own side. Jade had told me that she had managed to sway them into letting us have the room. The reality of the situation was that mom and dad could lock us in there while they had their "meetings" without having to worry about us pawing at the door to use the potty. Besides, it's not like they were going to be hanging around the place long enough to enjoy the royalties of having an on-suite bathroom. _

_Mom's door is closed, and my stomach drops as I hear the window slide open on the other side. I turn the knob slowly and push my way inside. The hideous mask covering my sisters face is the first sight I see. She's in mid leap, balancing on the window sill. Rage boils in me, until it is washed away by a tidal wave of dread when I see the deep crimson staining her clothes. I glance to the bed, and all there is is blood. Out of the corner of my eye, Cheshire bounds away from the window into the night._

_My feet carry me across the carpet, to the bed. My stomach is in knots. The iron odor invades my nose and it's worse than the sickly smoke from the kitchen. One arm hangs over the side of the bed, droplets of blood fall from the curled fingers onto the taupe carpet, adding to the pile already gathered. I can't blink. Tears stream from my cheeks and I am powerless to stop them, to blink them away. I look at her face and it's swollen; purple and black bruises already forming just below her pale skin. Deep cuts crisscross drown her chest. Her clothes lay in shredded heaps around her. _

_The carpet squelches under my boot, "Mom," My voice is hollow, empty. Her eyes are shut, and I gently grab her shoulders and shake her. "Mom. Mom. Moooom!" No response. Her eyes remain shut. I quickly pull my hands away from her, realizing my nails had bitten into her flesh. I've left behind half-moons. "No, n-no," I lay my head on her chest. My hair soaks in the layer of blood covering her form. Her heartbeat is there. It's faint, and far away, but it'd there._

_Time has come to a stop as I lay over my mother, her body limp and nearly lifeless. Theres a banging somewhere in the apartment and then a voice. I think it's calling for me. I don't move. _

"_-emis! Artemis! Are you okay?" It takes a moment for my brain to identify the voice. Robin had hit a sudden growth spurt out of nowhere, and his voice was a lot deeper, but it still held a subtle raspiness. "Oh shit," I hear his feet pad through the room and splash in the puddle of blood on the floor, before his hands are working their way under my weight and he is pulling me up. My eyes remain tightly closed as he carries me out of the room and slams the door shut behind him. He sets me on my feet, arms still wrapped around me, but my legs buckle and I fall to floor, Robin coming down with me._

_He has me curled into his chest as he pulls something out of his belt. There is beeping as he presses buttons, then a faint ringing. He's making a phone call. Through the speaker, I can hear a faint voice before Robin starts talking. "Yeah, I've got an unconscious woman here, she's lost a lot of blood. Come now. 1912 Pierce Avenue, apartment 306." He hangs up the phone, and pulls me close to him. He's firm._

_I hate myself for breaking down like this. 911. I couldn't even call for help. If she dies before they can make it to her, it's on me. That should have been priority one. What was I doing shaking her? Falling apart at the seams._

_I'm trembling in Robins arms, and I can't stop. He starts whispering to me, rocking me back and forth like a child. A small, frail child who has just woken up from a bad dream. But when I open my eyes and look at the knotted hair that hangs in front of my face, hair stained red with my mothers blood, I realize this isn't a dream_

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><p><strong><em>*<em>Short an sweet. Had to cut the whole ending of this out since I went and changed everything in the last chappie. Hope these changes are going good. I'd hate to change a story you all liked with something bad. Please review or favorite or whatever. Lemme feel the love.***

**~Just Look Up**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you to every one who reviewed and/or added this to their favorites(and alerts!)**

***edited on 5/12/15-see below for some other edited notes***

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><p>Robin is twirling a cluster of raven hair around his fingertip. The Bioship has been parked safely in the mountain, but neither of us have moved. He sits in the front seat, his back to me. The short lock is twisted tightly around his lithe digit for a moment, then he lets it go, the semi-sweat soaked hair still keeping the twisted shape even without his finger in place. We're waiting for an escort. Robin can't walk - not on that leg - and I can't carry him on my own. Somewhere along the way, the boy had outgrown me. I suppose I could always go. Leave Robin here to play with his grimy hair and check in on my team. Make sure they got back okay. Or got back at all.<p>

I bring my gaze back up to the boy in front of me. I couldn't leave him alone. I put him down, so I would wait for however long I had to to ensure he got back up again. He'd do the same for me - has done the same for me. Except the part where he struck me down in the first place. I guess only a screwup is capable of doing that.

WIth a _whoosh_, the cabin door to the ship opens and Red Tornado, followed by an irate Batman enters. I rise from the pilot seat, making to approach the men, but stop in my tracks when the bat turns his icy glare on me. Guess he heard the story.

"Hey Bats." Robin says, turning his head over his shoulder, a wide grin etched across his face. His color was back.

"Robin," Batman acknowledges his protege, walking past Red Tornado to Robin's side. Robin turns his seat to face the dark knight, and they talk in rushed whispers I can hardly make out.

"Artemis, perhaps we should go to the medbay." I turn from the pair to look at Red Tornado.

"Medbay? No, I'm fine, really."

"Not for you." And if it's possible, his face looks more solemn than normal. I gulp.

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><p>The walk to the medbay is long. The animatronic man beside me is silent. He doesn't even breathe and it does nothing but turn my already knotted stomach. He stops at one of the first rooms down the long hall.<p>

"We brought Wally in as fast as we could. His condition is...stable." And he opens the door and gestures for me to enter. I do, and he follows me in, sliding the door closed behind us.

Superboy is the first to acknowledge us, turning his head over his shoulder before leaving his girlfriend's side and suddenly pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. He rests his chin on top of my head. "You okay?" I can feel his sharp chin press into my head with every syllable he utters.

"Of course. H-how's…" I nod my head towards the single bed, holding what looks like an unconscious Wally. His pale face is littered in purple bruises; a check busted open with fresh stitches already bandaged. Red Tornado didn't explain much, just that after I had taken Robin away, another wave of mechanical monsters swept through and attacked the team before the league could arrive. Wally had gotten torn up pretty bad. Seeing him now, I realize the mechanical man had actually under exaggerated just how bad it actually was.

Superboy pulls away, but keeps his hands around my upper arms in a firm grip. He turns his head over his shoulder and looks at Wally and M'gann, sitting in the lone chair beside the bed. She's got her hands splayed out on his chest, her shoulders slumped. A big chunk of her coppery hair looks like it's been singed away on the back of her head, showing her faintly green scalp, which is painted over with blood.

"He's..fine I guess. He hasn't woken up yet, but he's alive."

He lets go of my arms, and I unconsciously rub at the spot his hand rested on. "What happened?" I look at him with hopeful eyes, and his smile falls. He looks down, his sapphire eyes clouding over.

"Maybe we should allow Wally some rest. Artemis, I've noticed your wrist is sprained." I look back at Red Tornado - I had forgotten he was still in the room - then down at my wrist, which has swollen around my wristband. A bruise is beginning to form. "You should get it treated." His unblinking eyes unnerve me.

I jump slightly when I feel a slight brush against my skin and look down at my injured wrist to see Superboys fingers grazing over the purpling skin with a cautious delicacy. _Is this how he touches M'gann?_ "I can take her." He says, his eyes focused down at his fingers. He's got an odd look on his face, as if he doesn't understand what it is he's doing.

Red Tornado opens the door to the room, and I offer one last look back at the bed and it's owner. My eyes water slightly from the sight. I don't miss the martians' lack of words, even when Conner bids her goodbye and presses his lips against the side of her head before exiting the room and walking with me to the lab.

"Has anyone contacted his parents?" I ask.

"They went on that timeshare trip to Hawaii, remember? We have no way to make contact, not until Wally wakes up anyway." Conner replies, stopping at the lab doors and entering his security code. The light on the keypad flashes green and the door slides open silently.

"Where's Flash?" It's a lot quieter than I intended, but I know he had no problems hearing it. He doesn't answer me. I look up at him and he's clenching his jaw tightly. "Conner?"

"Artemis?" I turn away from the clone and into the lab and see Green Arrow sitting up on one of the gurneys with a lab technician and Black Canary - who is clad in civies - standing by.

Before I can reply, Superboy is pushing past me, mouth agape, and approaching Black Canary. "Dinah," she gives him a half smile.

"Hi, Conner," she acknowledges him quietly. I follow in, holding my limp wrist in my opposite hand and walk up to the gurney. Conner towers over Dinah, but says nothing, just stares down at her.

"What I are you doing here?" I ask Green Arrow, then look over his body which looks unscathed. He doesn't even have a rip in his uniform. "Are you hurt?"

"I join the battle for not even a minute, and get myself knocked over the head. Our wonderful doc here-" he nods his head at the technician, who offers a wry smile, but continues to read over her charts, "-is checking for a concussion. And, like I've said a million times already, I am fine."

"Say it all you'd like, you're getting checked." Black Canary tells him, then looks over at me before continuing, "I hope you don't share his stubbornness."

"Sometimes," is all I can say to her. I look back at Oliver, whose eyes are on his girlfriend. "Uh, so why exactly are you here again? I mean as far as hospitals go, you had a pretty big list of options."

His eyes snap over to me before he says, "I wanted to make sure you got back okay." And his eyes are filled with that warm honesty that always envelops me. Makes me feel safe. I manage to give him a genuine smile.

"Dinah, I-" Superboy starts, but snaps his mouth shut, and casts his gaze to the floor. His jaw is clenching again, harder this time. Black Canary lays a soft hand on his arm, and he brings his gaze back up to her.

"I know I didn't leave on the best of terms with you, and I am sorry, but-" before she continues, our eyes meet, and she stops, realizing they've got an audience. "Arrow," she looks back at Oliver, "would you mind if I step out for a minute?"

"Go ahead," Green Arrow replies, holding up his hands.

Canary turns to the technician. "Make sure he finishes his exam."

"Of course," she replies, with an eye roll from Ollie. And with that, Dinah leads Conner out of the lab with a hand on his back.

"Your hand hurt?" I face Oliver, who's got an eyebrow quirked up in question at me. The technician looks up from her board, steely gaze set on me.

"Uh...wrist, my wrist. I think I sprained it," I reply hesitantly.

The doctor smiles, and sets her charts down on a wheeled cart by Oliver's gurney. "Well, let's get that checked out, shall we?"

After X-Raying my hand, during which Conner had come back into the lab looking much more at peace, the lab technician - Dr. Park - bandaged my sprained wrist and handed me a bottle of pain killers. Now she is standing by with Oliver, finishing up his motor response tests.

"Canary's trying to pull M'gann from Wally's side," Conner tells me from out of the blue. I'm on a gurney, flexing out my fingers.

"She's got some burns on her," I note.

"Yeah, serious ones," he sighs, "but she refuses to leave his side until he wakes up." I rest my hand on his shoulder, rubbing softly.

"Canary will get to her," I attempt to reassure him, although I'm not even sure myself. M'gann was a stranger to me these days, and from the looks of it, Conner was steadily falling into the same boat.

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><p><em>Beep. Beep. Beep.<em>

The all too familiar sound echoes through the silent room from the heart monitor connected to Wally's chest. Steady, constant, beeps.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

The last time I went and saw her, in the hospital, was over two months ago. But sitting here, with Wally, felt like I was back in that damn room.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

I'd visit every day after school. I'd come in and just sit there and talk to her all while knowing my words were falling on deaf ears. I'd talk for hours, then cry. I'd lie my head on her lifeless arm, and cry.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

One day I stopped.

I stopped taking the bus to the hospital. I stopped pretending that miraculously she'd open her eyes. I walked around the apartment like nothing had happened, ignoring the empty wheelchair in the living room, or the bedroom door that was always shut. I paid the rent, I cooked, and I cleaned.

And through it all, the strong, confident, and sure person I once was melted away.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

I look up at Wally's face and literally jump out of my seat when I see shining emerald eyes looking right back at me. They slowly flutter closed, and then back open. Tears leak out from the corner of his eye. He starts smiling, but winces when it reaches his busted cheek.

"Hey babe." His voice is gravely. I smile widely and fall to my knees next his bed.

"Hey Baywatch. Welcome back." He looks up at the ceiling and tries to blink away the water coating his eyes.

"I feel like I got hit by a car."

"You look like you got hit by a car," I start, taking one of his hands in my own. He looks down at our interlocked fingers, before meeting my eyes again.

"How's Rob?" He groans out.

"Uh, he's fine. I think. He's with Batman, so..."

He nods his head slightly and finishes my though, "...so he's fine," he lets out a chuckle of relief before taking in a deep breath through his nose, his nostrils flaring open wide.

"I was pretty worried about you," I mumble out, looking down at my legs folded beneath me.

"No you weren't." Wally says in a light tone. When I look back into his eyes though, I can see a glint of something else.

He wasn't entirely wrong; a sad truth to admit to myself. Of course I was upset at the possibility of never seeing his bright eyes again, but I wasn't _worried_. Not about Wally at least. I was certainly scared to see him, lying in a hospital bed, looking far too similar to a distant nightmare I was trying my best to forget. But my worry was solely focused on myself. On what Batman would decide to do to me. I shot an arrow into his partner. I could have killed him. The dark knight was good at holding grudges, and I wasn't mentally prepared for being on the receiving end of one.

The door slides open then, and we simultaneously turn our heads to see Miss Martian, wide eyed and breathless. Her hair had been shaved off, leaving behind just a smattering of fine coppery hairs lining her head, She looked different, and it wasn't from the obvious change in hair.

"Wally," she utters before breaking out into a smile and striding to the bed. She walks to the opposite side of where I'm kneeling - Wally's gaze locked onto her every step - and leans down into him for a hug. He offers her a squeeze of his own, with only his free arm. The one not stuck with an IV drip. They're like that for longer than I care to watch, and I find myself rising to my feet and pacing to the door where Superboy has just appeared through. He leans himself on the frame, and watches the pair with a stone face. I press my back to the wall just beside him.

"I have to tell you something," he says, not breaking his eyes away.

"Kay," I mutter and walk past him and out into the hall. He doesn't move for a moment, then slowly, pulls away from the frame and leads me to a vacant room a couple doors down. The rooms dark, only illuminated slightly by the equipment hooked into the walls. Neither of us make a move for the lights.

"What's going on?" I ask seriously. He looks down at the ground for a moment, brows furrowed.

"The Flash is dead."

I'm about to clarify, about to say something - anything - but nothing is willing to come out so I slowly close my mouth and look down. I don't know how to process the information. It's too much. Too much chaos in such a little day.

"We found out a few minutes before you beamed in," Superboy continues in my silence, "there was some anti-matter gun…thing. I-I'm not really too sure what happened. Everything kind of went through one ear." He's scratching his head, just behind his right ear. It's a nervous tick he's got, which I'd always found so… human.

I've got nothing to say, and the silence in the room grows thick. HIs perfect, steady breathing is calming to the tidal waves of mayhem I've got in my mind. I'm wound up. I need some action, some release. I circle my shoulders around swiftly.

When I turn back and face Conner, he's just standing there, watching me with those ice-cold eyes that are cesspool of emotion when, and only when he wants them to be. And I'm suddenly getting angry. I used to do that. Hide behind a mask; barricade my feelings when necessary. It had been as easy as flipping a switch. He's got a world of problems to face, yet here he can stand as impassive as a marble slab while I crumble apart like fine grains of sand.

With a sudden burst of adrenaline - or maybe it's envy - I find myself lunging at him, slamming my fist up against his chin. My hands cracks, but I pull it back and punch him again, in the ear. His eyes are wide and he's about to shout but I go in for a third strike on his lip, silencing him before he could even begin.

As I'm pulling my arm back for a fourth punch, he gets a firm grip on it and halts my actions. I try to tug away, but I'm powerless against him. As I struggle my arm free, he slowly brings him other hand up to rest on my hip. He's putting pressure on his fingertips and just as it starts to really bite into the bone, I stop and fall limp in his arms. He tucks me up to his chest and gently wraps his arms around my trembling from as the tears start flowing. My body feels heavy.

He's starting to rock us back and forth gently, just like the way Oliver does anytime he's got me wrapped into hug. Just like Robin had done the night of mom's attack. I lean back slightly to look at his eyes. They look black in the dark of the room. He's still got that blank look on his face and I just want him to do something. Show me some kind of emotion. I kiss him on the cheek. His eyes widen, but only for a moment. It's enough to get my heart beating faster, so I do it again, closer to the crease at the start of his mouth.

"Artemis," he stutters out, voice filled with confusion. He pushes me to an arm's reach, still keeping a grip on my upper arms. It's a lose grip, so I push forward against his chest. He doesn't stop me, so I lean up and press my lips to his.

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><p><strong>*So this story has officially changed it's course quite a bit. I really hope any of you old readers that are still out there are liking the changes. Keep on, keeping on!*<strong>

**Penny for your thoughts?**

**~Just Look Up**


	9. Chapter 9

**10 chapters. Wow, this is pretty awesome, guys. It's pretty awesome.**

**Speaking of awesome... 50 reviews! You guys rock.**

**Thank you so much:**

**~Andy Andrews, Lakeshine, A2ID, noavergeangel, candi711, Rocketeer101, Yuka Muntou, ShadoweFox, Angel of Mysteries, arbrick, O Nightwing Forever O(hell yeah), and let's not forget Guest :D**

**Seriously, you guys make my day.**

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><p>I watch the blue-eyed clone as he rests his ear against the metal door. The room is dark, but the simple idea of flicking the light switch on hasn't seemed to register to either one of us. I watch his eyes shift away from the door, to me. He stands still for another minute, before pulling away from the door and returning to the cot. He mimics my position, crisscrossing his thick legs.<p>

"Canary went in to tell him about Flash." He informs me. We've been held up in the empty med room for over thirty minutes now, just sitting on the cot and talking.

"I hope he takes it okay." I say, looking away from Superboy and down at my lap. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't even move. And if he didn't need to breathe, I probably would have looked up to make sure he was still there.

I look up anyway.

He's looking right at me with his piercing eyes. I unconsciously gulp.

"What…?" He leans a fraction closer, before casting his gaze down.

"Nothing." He mumbles out. I reach my hand out for his knee, but stop short and pull it back in.

"Conner…"

"Nothing!" I pull back from him. Far back. His nostrils are flared, and the ripped sheets lie limp in his clenched fists. His glare softens as he sees the linens that he's ruined, and the shock spread across my face. I look at his bicep, and he catches my stare, and snaps a hand up to cover it.

"When did you get those?" I ask slowly.

"Get what?" He rubs up and down his arm, looking everywhere but at me.

"The patches, Conner. When did you get them?" He sighs and rolls his long sleeve up until the small, burgundy Superman symbol appears. He peels it off and throws it down on the ground.

"Back when you and Kaldur made me destroy them, I sort of kept a few. For missions like today's." He says as he rolls his sleeve back down. I slide off the cot and pick up the little patch.

"You don't need these Conner." I stand to my full height and look down at him. "You are already great without them." And I rip the flimsy material in half and let the pieces flutter to the floor. His eyes follow them down, and then he smiles, and it's an emotional, real smile.

He stands up, and his hands latch onto my upper arms. "Thank you." I watch as the smile fades from his face, but the happiness that was with it, still shines. He lets go and walks pass me, sliding open the door and leaving me alone in the very dark room.

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><p>I wait long after Batman has left Happy Harbor before entering Robin's room. He's sitting up in his bed with a smirk already plastered across his face.<p>

"Expecting me?" I ask as I walk in and plop down onto the green chair residing by his bed.

"You're not exactly stealthy." I can't help the smile that spreads across my face.

He looks good. His skin is no longer pale (well not _as_ pale, this kid gets like no sun), and he actually looks clean, which is really hard for someone in the crime fighting business. He's wearing a white tee advertising a little café about a mile away from the mountain, the hem of which is ridden up around his hip, revealing the end of his bandages peeking out from his sweats.

"Did they fix that?" I ask, motioning at the bandages. He peers down, and slightly tugs his shirt down, hiding the wrappings from view.

"Just re-bandaged. I didn't let them take your stiches out though." He pushes his glasses up his nose, adjusting them.

"Why not. I'm sure I didn't do a good job."

"I'm sure you did." He says nonchalantly, looking off to the side and popping his knuckles.

"Are you alright?"

"Thinking." He shrugs, but doesn't face me. I sigh, leaning back against the padded chair. I look at the side of his face, trying to gage what he's thinking. His strong jaw quivers for just a second, just slightly. But it's enough.

"Wally's fine." This gets his head to turn towards me. "In fact he was doing the same thing you are," he quirks an eyebrow up, "sitting around worrying about you." And a smile finally cracks across his face again.

"So, what shenanigans have you been up too? No one's seen you." He starts, reaching over to his nightstand and taking a cup of vanilla pudding. He rips the plastic seal off and holds it out to me.

"Have people been looking?" I take it from him, grabbing the edges to avoid touching the vanilla goop on its underside. I get up and walk over to the trash in his bathroom, discarding the seal. I walk back into the room to see him licking out a glob of pudding. He pulls the cup away from his face, swallowing the mouthful.

"GA asked. But no. No lookers." He brings the cup back up, plunging his tongue into the contents. I avert my gaze to my legs and grimace at how filthy my uniform is. _Shower? Yes please._

"I was with Conner. We were both kind of freaking." He nods, looking down at his nearly empty pudding cup. "I, uh… actually…" I drift off, not able to say it. How do you tell the kid who has feelings for you that you kissed the person you _used_ to have feelings for, who happens to be _dating_ one of your best friends?

_Well you could just, you know, __**not**__ tell him._ That irritating voice, who sounds an awful lot like me, says. It seems like a pretty swell idea, but I have to tell someone, and there isn't very many options at the moment. So I try again.

"I-I …kissed him." I slap a hand against my forehead. Pathetic. I dare a glance up at him. His mouth is slightly open, the plastic cup long forgotten in his hand.

"Why?" He finally asks. He sets the cup back in its original place, and scoots up more in the bed. All I can do is shrug. "Well, do you still like him?" he asks a lot quieter, almost unsure.

"No." I say quickly, "I haven't for like two years. I just, wasn't thinking I guess."

He gets quiet, looking down somewhere. "Like in the ship."

My brow furrows as I try to think about what he's talking about. Then it clicks. When I was having an anxiety attack on the Bioship, before I even found out about Wally, I almost… I almost kissed Robin. My eyes widen.

"Rob-"

"No its cool. I get it. You were _over_whelmed." I almost cringe when he says the proper form of the word. I shake my head trying to tell him otherwise. Trying to fix whatever we have. But he stops me, raising a gloveless hand. "I'm kinda beat, you mind?" He doesn't say it rudely, but his words still leave me feeling cold. I rise from the chair, and walk out of his room.

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><p>The freezing water feels like heaven against my sore, overused muscles. I open my eyes and look up at the showerhead pelting down the blissful water. The water stings, but I don't rub it away, don't blink against it. I've scrubbed away the mud, sweat, and blood from my body, but I still feel dirty. If the past three months were embedded amongst the filth on my skin, I'd scrub it away. I'd scrub until the skin peeled off and I had a fresh new start. But time can't be erased, and all the mistakes I've made are permanent.<p>

I turn the water off and step out of the showers, grabbing a clean towel off a bench. I pull on a pair of grey sweatpants, and a green hoodie and head to the kitchen. It's empty, and I'm not sure if I feel sad or thankful of the fact. I grab some leftover pizza and eat it cold, not even bothering to use a plate. I finish off three pieces before I hop off the counter and head down the hall.

I stop before entering the room, trying to build up some courage. I let out a long, breathy sigh before sliding open the door and stepping in. To my surprise, the room is empty, save for the occupant of the bed.

"Hey." His voice is still raspy, and his eyes are red.

"Hey Wally," I approach the cot, but don't sit in the chair, "how you holding up?"

"I wish people would stop asking me that." He grumbles out, turning his emerald eyes down to his red leg cast.

"Wally your uncle died. They're just concerned." I say softly.

"Yeah well, I'm fine." I nod my head, looking around the depressing room.

"Where is everyone?" I ask him slowly. He looks around the room as if he just noticed that it was only the two of us.

"I dunno, I was asleep…" his sentence trails off, and I wait for a minute to see if he's going to continue before I sit in the chair.

"So, what did Dinah say?" He looks up at the ceiling, picking at a scab on his chin.

"She talked for about ten minutes on how everyone was here for me, and that I could get counseling from her if I needed it. And then…" he leaves the cut alone and sighs. "And then she offered me Flash's spot on the League. Just like that."

"Wow." I hate the word, but it's all I can come up with.

"Yeah. Pretty much."

"Are you going to-"

"I don't know." He cut's me off. "How can I pass up a free spot on the League?" I sit silently. He looks over at me, meeting my eyes. "But at the same time, I'm not sure I'm ready to take on this kind of responsibility."

"Do you really think they'd even consider offering you this if they didn't think you could handle it?" He stares blankly, taking in my words. After a silence, much to long for my liking, he opens his mouth.

"Do you?"

I sit back against the green chair. The question floats around the room. The clock on the wall taunts me, ticking off every second that I've used up, avoiding answering. I look up at Wally, and see that his shining green eyes are on me. I bite my lip, not able to break eye contact. It's impossible to answer. At least for me. And after a while, the dead silence growing louder, he gets it, and closes his eyes.

I leave only when his breathing steadies. I walk silently to my room, with my hood up over my damp hair. I crawl onto my bed after turning off the light, and lay on my stomach, stretching out my limbs. It feels like ages since I last slept. My eyes shut easily, and I slowly start to drift off, until an annoying vibration drags me back into reality. I look around, trying to find the source of the offending noise. A dim light shines on the wall from the floor. I reluctantly get up and walk to the pile of street clothes, picking up my cellphone.

Three missed calls, six new messages. All from dick. I scroll through them, and the last one makes my heart drop.

_Artemis is everything ok? call me when you get this please…im worried_

I quickly punch out a response and hit send.

_Sorry! visiting uncle, bad reception. Im fine Grayson:)_

I walk back to bed and lay down. The phone goes off seconds later.

_Good:)) Call me right when you can Arty_

I smile as I type out:

_I will_

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><p><strong>All righty-roo. That huge, mega long day is finally over. It only took like 5 chapters. <strong>

**Question: Would anyone seriously mind if this is bumped up to M? It's not gonna be for awhile, but just so you guys are aware.**

**Keep it real.**

**~Just Look Up**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey. It's been awhile.**

**I'm really sorry about the wait. I lost my flash drive which had the next few chapters for this story on it, not to mention ALL of my pictures, so I'm still bumming hard. But after the lovely holidays, I got a little inspiration so I decided to try and re-write these chapters. Thank you all so much for all of the wonderful reviews. Please enjoy.**

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><p>My flats click against the metal steps of the fire escape as I run up to the fourth floor of the apartment complex. My bedroom window was over the escape, and it had been my way of sneaking in or out of the house when mom was still around. Now, it was just convenient.<p>

I tug on the old window and it slowly rises up. I shimmy through and land smoothly on the carpet. The room is dark, with only the dim glow from the street light shining through the window. I close it behind me, pulling the shades shut, and wander to the bathroom. I blindly grope for the light switch and walk up to the mirror.

Only a few bruises are visible, nothing a little foundation can't fix. It wouldn't be the first time I went to school after getting my ass kicked. My eyes are bloodshot. Sleep hadn't come easy last night, no matter how exhausted I felt, my mind had continued going, full throttle. I run the tap and splash cold water on my face.

Beads of water run down the side of my face, catching in the frazzled hair that sticks out of my lose ponytail. I pull out the emerald ribbon and run my fingers through the snarls, trying to smooth my hair into some semblance of normalcy. I settle for a side braid, hanging down over my shoulder.

I stumble into my room and wrench my school uniform out of the overflowing hamper. After pulling it on I check myself over in the mirror. My skirt and sweater are wrinkled, and I'm pretty sure I don't smell like a springtime meadow, but it's really the least of my worries. I glance over to the clock on the nightstand.

7:46.

_Twenty-four minutes to get to school. Perfect._

After finishing the rest of my morning routine, I slowly approach the door, the one that leads to the rest of the apartment. I've always hated this part. I push it open and walk swiftly through the living room, grabbing my bag off the couch, not breaking my gait. It isn't until the door is shut tightly behind me that I let out the breath I was holding in.

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><p>It's funny. My wrist is in a brace, my face is bruised, but here I sit, on top of a table, waiting for that ebony-haired boy to emerge from the mass of bodies in the courtyard. It's as if these past few days – hell, months – haven't even happened. But I suppose here, nothing really has happened.<p>

I smile as I think of a story to tell Dick when he asks why I look like I was hit by a car. As I think, the images of blood and metal claws slowly fade away, and a warm, tingly sensation alights in my stomach. My eyes roam the tables again, searching for striking blue eyes. I feel my face begin to fall.

I turn to my half-eaten lunch sitting on the table beside me. The ripe pear, sitting uneaten on the tray, mocks me, so I pull out a discarded napkin and cover it up.

"Artemis," the sudden voice makes me jump, and I turn my head a little too quickly to look at the speaker, giving myself a head rush, "oh my god! What happened?" I blink up at Bette Kane: Student Body President/ Head cheerleader. Her silky voice echoes in my dazed mind as she awaits an answer.

"Er – I… fell. Down… the stairs." _So my excuses are lame. Sue me. _

Her bottom lip hangs down for a moment, and I can actually see her eyes get a judging gleam. "Oh, that's too bad." I nod in response, not meeting her gaze. "Well, feel better…" I look up to see her warm smile. At least she's trying. She waves and walks away to her little group, all looking at me as if I'm some sort of leper. Which I sort of am, at a private school, being a scholarship student.

I slip my cell out of my skirt pocket and sneak a glance, checking for any un-read messages. I slide it back into my pocket with a sigh. It's strange for Dick to not show up. It's even stranger when there isn't an explanation for his absence.

I stand and step over to the nearest garbage can and dump my trays contents into it, then set the tray on the rack above it. The bell rings just as I pick up my books from the table, and I begin walking to class, taking one last look at the almost-empty courtyard.

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><p>"There. Your cast has officially been 'Robified'." Robin says as he clicks his pen shut against Wallys' leg cast, looking over his handiwork. I chuckle at the sight. Wally is spread out on the armchair, his broken leg propped up on the coffee table, with Rob on his right, in a wheelchair.<p>

"What?" Wally asks around a mouthful of chips, craning his neck to look over at me. I shrug, letting out another chuckle.

"You two are just so cute." I say sarcastically, giving him a mocking grin. A sneer spreads on Wally's face as Rob rolls over to the kitchen, passing the stool I'm perched on, stopping at the pantry. He carefully opens the door, avoiding bumping his outstretched leg. Because of where he was stabbed, he can't move his hip without tearing his stiches, which means no walking. At least until the skin is reclosed.

"So," Rob rolls over to me, a package of cookies on his lap, "how was your day?" He opens the seal and pulls one out, taking a small bite. I glace over to the speedster, now engrossed on whatever is playing on the TV, and shrug.

"Peachy." I look down at him, and smile. He smiles back before popping in the rest of the cookie. He sets the package down on the counter and rolls himself behind me. I turn in my seat to face him. He's just sitting there, a bored expression etched onto his face, picking at a wheel on the chair.

"You must be losing your mind, not being able to move." He doesn't look up, but he stills his hand.

"You know, I've gotten hurt thousands of times, but I could always get back up." He looks up at me, "Now though…" he shakes his head and chuckles, "now I just feel useless."

I don't say anything back, I'm not sure I can, but I don't look away from his glasses, from the eyes he hides behind them. In front of us, Wally cackles loudly at the show, spraying crumbs across the coffee table in front of him.

"How's he doing?" I ask, tilting my head at Wally.

He lets out a long sigh, and leans forward in his chair, lowering his voice as he speaks, "Okay I think. He had his first session with Canary today." He looks over his shoulder, before adding, "Hasn't talked about the whole League thing at all yet." He turns his head back to me, and I quickly put on an awkward, forced grin to cover my worry stricken face. I'm sure he can see through me, though. He has an act for that whole detective thing.

When Aqualad wanders into the kitchen, 10 minutes later, I feel his eyes immediately fall on me. Without a word, I set the package of cookies down on the counter, stand up, walk around Robin, grab his chair, and start pushing him down the hall. He offers no complaints, and asks no questions. I silently thank him.

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><p>"How, exactly, did you get Batman to let you stay at the mountain?" I ask, pulling a card from the deck sitting next to Robin on the bed.<p>

"Why, exactly, did you come to the mountain on your day off?" He replies, rearranging the cards in his hand. I lay my hand down on the bed, and let out an irritated sigh.

"If you're going to be like this the entire time, I _won't_ be here on my day off anymore." He gets a little grin on his face, and continues to fiddle with his cards. Thinking on my feet, I pull them out of his hand and lay them down. He looks at me, hands held up as if he were still holding the cards. I kneel onto the floor, and lean in close to him. We sit in silence, inches apart.

"Why?" He whispers, his warm breath fanning over my face.

"I came for you." And I surprise even myself, with the honesty in those words. His hand cups my face out of nowhere, and it's calloused and a bit rough, and I scold myself for thinking how they get so banged up when he wears gloves all the time, and concentrate on the now. Save questions for later. I lean into his palm, and close my eyes. He pulls my face closer, and my heart hammers in my chest. Not daring to open my eyes, I close the distance and our lips meet. It's chaste, he pulls away far too quickly, but a smile still spreads across my face.

When his hand pulls away, my eyes flutter open, and the smile vanishes.

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><p><strong>Robin's OOC, but he's supposed to be. I made him seem more… mellow and slow. The way I see it, he's got major muscle damage, so he's on strong pain meds. And those get you loopy, tired, and nauseous. <strong>

**It's pretty rushed and short, but I promise the next one will be better and won't be written in an hour and a half.**

**Leave a review, tell me your thoughts. **

**~Just Look Up**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you so much for reviewing and liking and whatever, you all are awesome! **

**Andi Andrews, withloveme, femrobin fan, it-ended-at-3, Redmage2, Guest(s), YJFangirl, Minako-Akemi, simslovr1, and everyone else. Seriously, awesome. Enjoy.**

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><p>There's an incessant buzzing in my ear. I noticed it the moment I walked into the overly-lit room. It was easy enough to ignore, at first, but with the deafening silence between the two of us, the lights overhead buzz out, loud and clear.<p>

"Are you okay?" Robin's voice is soft. I furrow my brow. _Isn't that my line?_

"Yes. Why wouldn't…" my sentence falls short when I feel the first teardrop splash against my arm. I tentatively run a hand across my cheek, surprised when I feel the wetness there. I watch another drop fall onto my arm, the water breaking apart as it slides down through the fine hairs, leaving a wet trail. I glance back up at Robin, finally understanding the reason his face looked so upset. It must be a real bummer if the person you kiss cries directly after.

He reaches out and brushes his thumb across my cheek, which brings on even more tears, and I find myself choking back a sob. His hand snaps away, and his face falls.

"'Mis…" he trails off. I close my eyes, try to pretend he isn't here, that he isn't seeing me cry over nothing again. Although, I suppose, one never cries without a reason. _So, what's yours? _The kinda-sounds-like-me-but-not-quite voice echoes through my head, forcing me to open my eyes and jump back into reality.

Robin is still stretched out on his bed, hurt expression in place, and I'm still kneeled on the floor, crying and silent, causing his pain. I try to form words, but my mind is blank. What do you say in this situation? _Sorry I ruined our first kiss; I have way to much emotional baggage._

"I'm sorry, we shouldn't have-"

"Don't." I cut him off, "What are you apologizing to me for?" I stand up, and pace to the end of his bed. I turn my back to him, not able to bear seeing the dejection on his face. Neither of us continue, and the unwelcome silence returns.

I stare at the generic room in front of me. There's a dresser with an attached mirror, a computer on a desk, a rolling chair. All these typical, everyday things in such a strange place. I breathe in deeply, and force the slow stem of tears to stop, before sitting at the end of his bed.

I jump when Robins hand grazes my back; I hadn't even heard him move. I look over my shoulder to see him leaning over his outstretched leg, hand running soothing circles. And it pulls at my heart.

All this time, these gestures had meant nothing more to me than fervent flirting. Now though, as Robin's fingers run down my back, I can't help but feel that there may be some kind of deeper meaning to all of this. Thinking back, he never really did touch me before mom's accident.

"I never told you, did I?" His ministrations don't stop as I speak.

"Told me what?"

"That you're amazing." He snorts, and I turn myself and take his hand, rubbing my thumbs over his knuckles. "Really, I mean it." I look into his eyes, hoping he is doing the same. His smile stretches from ear-to-ear. He takes hold of my hand and yanks me closer to him. I return his smile, feeling my eyes water, then my lips are on his again, and this time he doesn't pull away.

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><p>"Hey…" my voice is low. The courtyard was pretty empty today, probably due to the wind, but I knew she would be out here regardless. Barbra Gordon, along with the other two girls sitting with her, looks up at me from her lunch. The look she gives me makes my fists shake.<p>

"What?" She is snippy, which doesn't calm my nerves.

"Uh…have you seen Dick…lately?" I don't meet her icy teal gaze as I speak. She grabs her water bottle–with a straw in it–and takes a long drink, forcing me to stand by awkwardly as her two friends continue their conversation, eyeing me warily. She sets the bottle on her tray before turning in her seat in my direction.

"Yeah, he's been here all week." I'm not sure what surprises me more; the fact that Dick has been at school this whole time or how not stuck-up she sounded as she talked to me. She notices the confusion on my face and continues, "Our mathletes team has a big competition this weekend, so he's been using his lunch period to get some extra studying in."

"Isn't that why you have after-school practice?" I ask.

"Yeah but, Dick got grounded, like majorly, he can't even use his car. I'm surprised you didn't know." She stands up with her tray, heading to the trash cans, and motions me to follow.

"What'd he do?" She shakes her tray over the can, and shrugs.

"Not sure. He didn't tell me." I nod my head, and walk with her back to the now vacant table. She sits down and fishes through her bag. I just stand by the table again, arms crossed. So Dick was grounded. I feel a stab of jealousy that he told all of this to Barbra, but I'm just finding out now. "You could try calling him," she starts pulling her thick, red hair up into a ponytail as she talks, "Bruce let him keep his phone for emergencies." She closes her bag and pulls it on, standing up again. "Good luck."

She walks past me, heading for the two girls that she was sitting with, and I quickly mutter a thanks. She turns her head and actually gives me a slight smile, before walking away.

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><p>I sit cross-legged on my bed with an Econ book spread open in front of me. I try to concentrate on the section, but my eyes keep flitting over to the nightstand where my cellphone sits. I had finally text Dick for the first time in a week. It's almost been an hour, and he still hasn't replied. I absentmindedly flip the page, glancing at the pictures, but not really concentrating on much else. I cave in and grab my phone, unlocking it, and going to my messages.<p>

Nothing. No new messages. I groan and fall back against the mattress, letting my phone slide from my hand onto the floor. It hits with a silent thud, luckily landing on the carpet. I wait a moment before sitting up and bending over the edge of the bed to pick up the phone. The back cover popped off, and the battery pulled a vanishing act.

I groan again and crawl off my bed, getting on my hands and knees. I look under the bed, but don't see it. I swipe my hand against the floor under the bed, hoping I'll brush against it. No luck. I sit back on my knees, and glance around the room. The little black battery sits under the nightstand. Snatching it up, I quickly pop it back into my phone and start it up.

My teeth dig into my bottom lip as the phone turns on. When the memory card is downloaded, the phone suddenly vibrates in my hand, signaling a new message.

I stop myself from yelping with glee. I view my new messages, bouncing on my knees when I see it is, indeed a reply from Dick.

_Im such a dick!(no pun intended) im so sorry I never called Arty!_

Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I find my reaction to his message weird, a wild fit of girly giggles, but I continue laughing as I text him back.

_You are so forgiven. I just assumed you dumped me after realizing I suck:)_

It takes him a good four minutes to respond back.

_I could never dump you, silly goose_

The message is totally lame and most likely meaningless, but my cheeks still heat up and my heart beats faster. I'm sure I feel butterflies flapping around my stomach, too.

_You need to get ungrounded Grayson, I believe theres a fair that is calling our names next week_

_I heard. We so need to go! _

I'm typing out a reply when he sends another message.

_Im caught! g2g, sorry_

And he's suddenly ripped away from me again. I lock my phone and toss it to the side before pulling my legs up and hugging them to me. It's such a weak position, but I find myself not caring. When did liking someone become so complicated?

It's times like this where I envy Batman. He's so free of life's little complications, something I usually find completely depressing. But really, it's probably nice not having to live these two separate lives that are so similar to each other that it's hard to keep track of it all. I've found myself on multiple occasions calling Connor Dick because, come on, two tall, black-haired, blue eyed guys with goofy humor. Very confusing.

He's Batman. No more, no less. And I wish I could be Artemis, and just Artemis. But the problem with having the same name for both of my lives is that I'm not even sure which one 'just Artemis' would be.

I stand up and stuff my work back into my bag and plop down onto my bed. My phone is still sitting on the floor where I threw it, but I leave it there. After all, I'm not expecting any calls.

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><p><strong>So hopefully that kissaging went down to your liking. If not, ah well. <strong>

**I posted a new YJ fic, it's a Frostbite. If you are interested, you should totally R&R. It's called Frame Work and it's rated M, I decided to not beat around the bush like I did with this story. **

**Thanks for reading. Stay cool.**

**~Just Look UP**


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